


Germany and the Italian Tangle

by cousinD



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Brotherly Love, Confusion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Germany, Hetalia, Hurt/Comfort, Italy, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 74,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cousinD/pseuds/cousinD
Summary: Germany will always help Italy.





	1. A Tangle

A/N: I don't own Hetalia.

WARNINGS: Shonen-ai / slash and Lovino's mouth

 

Germany and the Italian Tangle

 

Chapter 1: A Tangle

Germany sat at his desk with neat stacks of papers in front of him. He'd been sitting in the same spot for hours. His hand had a cramp from all the paperwork he'd trudged through during the day. Still, he worked on. After perhaps another hour or so, and with a feeling of great accomplishment, he set down his pen and took off his reading glasses. He leaned back in his chair and let out a small, satisfied smile. Done. Finally! He tilted his head to one side to ease the tension in his neck and stretched his arms to relieve his back. Hours and hours of signing and reading and his eyes were sore and he just wanted to go to bed. A glance at the clock on the wall made him feel all the more tired. The night was late and the house was silent.

Funny, that.

His house was rarely quiet since he'd met Italy.

A cold nose nudged at his hand and Germany smiled down at his dog. The other two were sleeping soundly in their corner of his office. Aster, however, seemed as wide awake as ever and looked up at Germany, questioningly.

"Soon. It's done, but it has to be filed." And that - Germany stifled a groan as he looked at all the papers on his desk - would take another couple of hours. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. With luck, he could likely get to sleep before midnight. Maybe. "Won't take too long, I think." He gave Aster another pat on the head. "Go to bed." He pointed to the corner where the other two dogs were sleeping and snapped his fingers. "Go lay down."

Aster's tongue lolled out of her mouth and she panted happily as she ignored him.

The telephone rang and Germany wanted to cry. He was so tired. The last thing he wanted was another assignment from his BOSS. Still, he was good and obedient and he answered the telephone. "Hello?"

It wasn’t his BOSS. Instead, Germany heard yelling and crying and some swearing he heard a click and then nothing but the dial tone.

Horrified, Germany took the telephone receiver away from his ear and stared at it. His stomach turned. That had definitely been the Italy Brother’s voices. Feliciano had been crying and Lovino had been swearing. Slowly, he replaced the telephone receiver and looked down at Aster. "That can't be good."

Then, as if something inside of him burst, Germany flew out of his chair so suddenly that he startled Aster enough to make her yelp. He raced through his house, grabbing his coat and making sure his pistol was loaded. Knowing Feliciano as he did, it was entirely possible that he'd forgotten how to tie his shoes or how to button his shirt and was panicking over nothing. Still… something of Lovino's had obviously gotten stuck. Maybe Lovino had gotten a zipper stuck. That had happened to Feliciano, once. The zipper on his trousers had gotten stuck and he'd had to ask Germany to help. Of course Germany had obliged – Germany took his promise to always help Italy very serious. He'd told Feliciano to hold still and got on his knees in front of his ally. Feliciano had done well and kept very still – though he had made some odd noises – while Germany had tugged at the zipper.

Germany never did find out why Feliciano had been blushing so darkly after Germany had gotten up off his knees.

So, maybe that was all it was. Maybe Lovino had a stuck zipper and Feliciano wanted help for him. It would be just like Feliciano to make such a fuss about such a little thing. That didn't really explain all the cries of pain, but Lovino hadn't seemed happy to have Feliciano calling Germany and he did have a rather prickly temperament. With luck, it would be nothing.

Then again, how often was luck on Germany's side? In fact, it could be an awful disaster. An invasion! The thought surged to the front of Germany's mind. He grabbed an extra box of ammo from his supply closet and shoved it in his coat pocket. There were just too many other nations who looked at Italy and saw nothing but the rich land and grand history. They all wanted a piece of the brothers. Germany thought furiously, ‘No one will invade Italy while I’m around!’

Germany quite loved Italy. He'd visited once or twice and he found the climate and atmosphere wonderful. The food was first-rate and the sun always seemed to be shining. However, with his heart racing as he went, he saw none of it that night. As time rolled on, he kept thinking of what horrible thing might be happening to Italy and soon, his hope that it was nothing more than a stuck zipper was forgotten. He was certain there was a fire or an attack or something even worse that he couldn't even begin to imagine.

So, when he arrived at Italy's home, Germany pounded hard on the front door. "Italy!" The door swung open, easily. After taking a step inside, Germany bellowed, "Where are you?"

"Upstairs!" Feliciano's wail came down the stairway.

Up, he charged. Germany took the stairs two at a time, almost running up them. He threw open the door of Italy's bedroom… and froze. He stood in the bedroom doorway and felt all the anxious energy drain out of him. Suddenly, he had a throbbing headache.

"Hair?”

The Italy Brothers sat side-by-side in bed, both naked from the waist up, tears rolling down their faces. The only thing out of place was their hair. Each brother had a single curling lock of hair and, somehow, they'd managed to knot those hairs together. Feliciano sniffled and used one hand to wipe at his face while his other hand clutched at the tangled hair.  
Germany put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. "What were you two doing that you managed to get your hair tangled up like that?"

Lovino snapped, "None of your business, you damned - "

"Potato eater. Ja. I've heard it before." Germany sighed and shook his head. "Of all the things to make me rush so far… Feliciano, you will be the end of me."

It was, of course, the wrong thing to say as Feliciano instantly burst into tears and wailed, "I don't want to be the end of Germany! That sounds really bad and I don't even know what it means! It's not fair, I only want nice things for my friend and someone told him I'll be the end of him and that doesn't sound nice at all!" All the while, he shook his head to and fro, dragging Lovino's head with him.

"Stop it! Damn you, stop it! Hurts! That hurts, you little bug!" Lovino reached up both hands to their tangled hair as if he could keep it still, but only managed to poke Feliciano in the eye which, naturally, made Feliciano cry harder and yell that his big brother was attacking him but, 

"Don't attack him back, Germany! He's big brother and I don't want big brother hurt!"

"I'm not going to hurt him and you need to calm down. Feliciano!" Germany barked the last and, as he expected, Feliciano went still. "You are hurting your brother. Stop moving and I'll help. Didn't I promise to always help you?" He went to stand by the side of the bed and contemplated the most efficient method of freeing the two. He would have to do it as quickly as possible as Lovino seemed likely to explode any moment, judging by the look on his wide-eyed face, and Feliciano was sniffing pitifully. There wasn't much choice. Germany reached behind them and pulled the pillows off the bed.

"Hey! Hey!" Lovino said. "What're you doing?"

"Making room. Stop moving." It would have been rude to get his shoes on their bed, so he kicked them off before he slid onto the bed behind Feliciano and Lovino. "Stop flailing about, Lovino," he scolded. Germany sat with his back against the headboard of the bed and his legs positioned so that Feliciano and Lovino sat between them. "You're going to hurt yourself like that."

"It's you I'm going to hurt! What are you doing? Inviting yourself into our bed? You're just like Spain!"

Feliciano started to lean back, as if he would cuddle against Germany's chest. "Ve! Germany's not like Spain at all. They're very different. I don't think Germany would ever take a nap in the middle of the day. Ow!" He sat up straight when Lovino punched him in the arm. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"Don't hit your brother!"

Lovino snapped, "I don't wanna be leaning on you and I'll have to if he does and little brother never listens when people talk to him!" He hit his own legs with his fists. "Gotta be one of us what has a brain!"

Germany rolled his eyes and took hold of both of their shoulders - Felicano's right and Lovino's left - and waited until they'd both settled. Unsurprisingly, Feliciano calmed faster as he was used to Germany being in command and trusted him. Lovino, even though he went still as a rock at Germany's touch, was so tense that he was nearly vibrating and Germany feared he would bolt at any moment. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if those sensitive hairs got torn out in a fit of Lovino's temper. Germany wasn't good at calming people – Feliciano was an exception to most every rule – and he thought for a moment about what to do for Lovino. He'd never seen a book at any bookstore or library entitled, 'How to Calm Jittery Italians' and he thought that the stern commands that seemed to worked for Feliciano might send Lovino into a rage. He just didn't know Lovino well enough to tell. So, not knowing what else to do, he just started talking and hoped for the best.

"I went visiting your home some weeks ago, you know."

"Yeah? Wait. What? Who said you could visit and where were you? I didn't see you!"

"I said he could visit, big brother." When it came to tempting his brother's wrath, Feliciano had no fear. He smiled happily at Lovino. "Germany works too hard and too much. He wouldn't stop if someone didn't make him, so I said he should come visit our house and he really liked it. He said someone gave him fruit, too. Wasn't that nice?"

"Fruit? A few weeks ago?" Lovino went abruptly very still. "Yeah,” Lovino said, faintly. "Real nice. Maybe the poor, innocent vendor was just scared of you."

Germany thought about it. "No. He was being nice. Everyone was very pleasant and there was lots of singing. I think I'll go back sometime. Feliciano tells me that you have nice museums."

"Nice? They're magnificent! Splendid! France thinks his are the best, but our museums put his to shame!"

Germany chuckled. "Then I'll definitely have to see them."

"Too right you will! You shouldn't have put it off so long… either. Hey!" Lovino seemed to have realized he'd somehow invited Germany to visit his house. He huffed. "Even fools like you should visit places of great culture. Maybe it'll make you smarter."

"Maybe. Now, are you going to tell me how this happened?"

"Big brother got mad when I said I slept with you and Japan," Feliciano chirped happily.

Germany patted Lovino's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner when he felt Lovino tense. "Why did you get mad? Feliciano gets lonely at night, I think." He blinked as a thought occurred to him. "Or maybe… do you get lonely at night, too? Maybe you want to sleep with someone but they won't let you?" When the back of Lovino's neck flushed dark red Germany, who believed he'd hit the nail on the head, readied himself for another tantrum. "It's nothing to be upset about. I'm surprised Spain hasn't offered. Maybe he doesn't know. I'll speak to him for you. I'm sure he'll be happy to sleep with you."

"No!" Lovino burst out. "No. You don't have to. Really!"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be lonely."

"I'm sure. Really, really sure."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind." Then, as he suspected that Lovino was as relaxed as he was likely to get, Germany started to work on the tangled hair. He nearly crossed his eyes as he worked, meticulously picking at the impossibly tangled strands. He silently cursed himself for not having the forethought to bring his reading glasses with him; if he had, his eyes wouldn't be so sore and itchy from the strain. His focus on his work was so intense that he didn't notice Spain standing in the bedroom doorway until Lovino started to tremble badly enough that it was disrupting Germany's work.

"What are you doing here?" Lovino growled at Spain.

Spain's mouth was hanging open and he started with wide eyes.

Germany frowned. "You look like you just got hit in the face with a brick." Puzzled at what could cause such a reaction, Germany looked down at himself and the Italy Brothers. The two brothers were leaning against each other, holding onto each other's hands, and had both flushed a dark pink. Their eyes were closed and they panted heavily. It was just the usual reaction to having those particular hairs pulled and no reason at all for Spain to look so stunned. Surely, he'd known Lovino long enough to know how sensitive those hairs were. And then it struck him! Germany was so used to Feliciano running about half undressed, that it had hardly seemed odd at all when he'd found them both nearly bare in bed. If Spain hadn't let Lovino sleep with him then he probably hadn't seen Lovino without his clothes. Japan had been a bit surprised when he'd first seen Feliciano naked, too.  
Fortunately, Japan didn't have a penchant for drooling as Spain seemed to have. Hoping to help, Germany reached down and took hold of the blanket that covered Feliciano and Lovino's laps and legs. He pulled it up until it covered them right up to their necks and tucked in the edges around their shoulders.

As soon as they were well covered, Spain blinked and seemed to recover himself. "Oh. My, my." Spain made a sort of choking noise and flushed as darkly as Feliciano and Lovino. "I… ah. I didn't expect to see you here, Germany." He looked from Germany's stocking feet to his legs that lay on either side of the Italy brothers, up to his bare arms, and then his face. He didn’t seem altogether happy to see Germany. "And so informal a visit, too."

With a roll of his eyes, Germany looked back at the tangle of hair. "This is hardly a social visit. And what are you doing just standing about? If you were in the house, then why didn't you help them? With their hair like this, they can't even walk without hurting themselves!"

Spain's eyes widened dramatically. A smile grew on his face. It grew a little too eagerly and quickly became a leer. "Oh! I'd be happy to help!"

Lovino gave a little shudder and gasp when Germany gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned while glaring at Spain, "You don't touch my hair!"

"Don't be like that, Romano. It'll be fine. Everything's good. Make room!" He started to get on the bed, and, as he did, lay one hand on Lovino's knee.

Lovino’s reaction was volcanic.

"Get the Hell out!" Lovino flung one leg out and caught Spain in the side. "Never wanted you here! Didn't call you, did I? We called Germany and he's helping us! Get out!" He was incensed, worse than Germany had ever seen him. Even though the kick he'd given Spain had sent Spain to the floor, gasping for breath and holding his side, he kept right on yelling and waving a fist around. "Get out! Get the Hell out of our house!"

The explosion came so quickly and was so violent, what with Lovino's thrashing and screaming and Feliciano's crying and trying not to get accidently hit or kicked, that it took Germany a minute to wrap his arms around the brothers and hold them securely. He held them tightly, almost squashing them together, as he feared that they might end up hurting each other, again, if they didn't calm down. He gruffly said to Lovino, "That's enough, now. No need for all this fuss. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."

"I'm not scared!"

"Of course not. Hush, now." Germany waited a moment, until he was certain Lovino wouldn't start his tantrum, again. "I'll be right back." Germany let go of the brothers and slid off the bed. He shot them a stern glare. "Don't move. Don't hurt each other. Try not to breathe - that might keep you out of trouble. Got it?"

Feliciano saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Lovino snorted and sulkily said, "Whatever."

Spain, still clearly in pain, gave a grimacing sort of smile to Lovino as he stood. "Your angry face is so cute, Romano. You really should have called me, though. You know I'd do anything to… eh? Germany?" He broke off as Germany came to stand in front of him, effectively blocking Spain's view of the brothers with his large frame.

"Get out."

"Now, really," Spain kept smiling and started to laugh. He ran a hand through his curly brown hair. "You don't know Romano. He always acts like this. He's just a spoiled brat. I know it's mostly my fault, but he's so adorable, I can't help but give into him."

"Then you'll be happy to give in, again, won't you?" Germany took Spain by the upper arm and forced him out of the room. Not only out of the room, but down the hall and right downstairs to the front door. He paused only long enough to open the door. "Lovino has made it very clear that he doesn't want you here."

"Ah! But I came all this way just to see him!"

Germany's eyes narrowed. "You weren't staying here?" He had thought that Spain had been sleeping in another part of the house.

"Romano's funny about letting people stay with him. I just came over to visit."

He said it so happily that Germany wondered at his impertinence. He'd just sauntered into Italy's house without asking? In the middle of the night? That was just plain rude. "You may come back in the morning… if you are invited."

"But I come over all the time!"

"And you are obviously not welcomed. Good bye."

"No! You don't understand!"

"Quite likely." He gave Spain an effortless shove, propelling him out the door, and waited until Spain had caught himself and turned back to face Germany with an expression of utter astonishment. Germany straightened his back and crossed his arms. "I am Italy's ally. Should you attempt to bother him, I will be here." Then he slammed the door. He would have locked it, but there was no lock on the door. Germany sighed and muttered that he would have to teach them to defend themselves, even if they never learned how to attack. He wedged the back of a tall chair under the doorknob and hoped it would be secure enough to keep Spain out.

He was about to return to the Italy's bedroom when it struck him that if the front door had no lock, then the rest of the house was unlikely to be secured. He took his time going around the house to each window and door. He used all of the kitchen chairs to blockade the doors. The windows were easier as all he had to do was latch the shutters closed. When it was all done, he rechecked the house and, just to satisfy his nagging worry, checked once again.

Back in their bedroom, Feliciano smiled sweetly at Germany while Lovino pouted at his lap. Their red faces had turned a more normal color and, when Germany got back into his place sitting behind them on the bed, Lovino didn't shout. They sat there for a few peaceful minutes and Germany started to hope that they'd be done before sunrise so that he could get a little sleep, when he happened to glance to the left, at the bedroom's only window. It happened to be the only window in the house that he hadn't shuttered. It also happened to be the window that Spain had pressed his face against as he stared in at them.

Once again, Germany was forced to abandon his work. He reached to his right side where his pistol was holstered and drew his weapon. He put his other arm across Feliciano and Lovino's chests and pulled them tight against his own chest. Lovino barely had time to squawk before Germany pull his pistol up and aimed across the brother's and at Spain's face.  
"Don't shot him," Lovino muttered. "Please." It was the softest Germany had ever heard him speak.

"I won't."

But it had the desired effect. Spain looked shocked and hurried away.

After a minute, just in case Spain was foolish enough to return, Germany put his pistol away. He started on the knotted hair before he broached an important, if uncomfortable, subject. "Lovino - "

Feliciano nudged Lovino's arm. "Better listen, big brother. That's Germany's 'serious' voice."

"I don't care if he's using a squeaky clown voice!"

"Hush." Germany lightly thumped his hand down on Lovino's shoulder. "Now listen." He paused, trying to force his words into some semblance of sensitivity and wished, again, that Japan were sitting with them to advise him. Japan always knew the best way to say everything. "Spain seems to make you… jumpy."

Lovino went still. He started rubbing his hands awkwardly together and muttered, "He's just a jerk."

"I see. Has… has Spain attempted to invade your vital regions?"

Feliciano gasped and, of course, swung his head to look at his brother. That brought another round of cursing from Lovino and tears from both of them.

Germany took both of their shoulders and forced them to sit. He didn't start working on the tangled hair until the brothers were reasonably still. "Feliciano, if you don't keep still, I will have to resort to discipline."

"What?" Feliciano audibly gulped. His shoulders straightened and he almost seemed to stop breathing with his effort to do as he was told.

"What?" Lovino parroted in a far more irate tone than Feliciano could ever muster. "What's that? You gonna hurt little brother?! Don’t you dare!"

"Will you hush? I'm not going to hurt anyone. Just sit still."

Lovino peered suspiciously over his shoulder at Germany as best as he could without tugging on their hair. "You said discipline and you scared little brother."

"Your brother often needs a firm hand to keep him behaving well. I think you may need the same."

Feliciano whispered to his brother. "It's okay. Germany doesn't scare me and he never really hurts me. He makes me run if I don't do what I'm supposed to do. I just don't wanna run, but it doesn't hurt. It's like when we were little and Grandpa Rome gave me a smack for climbing too high in the olive tree. I didn't want the smack, but he only did it because he'd already told me not to climb and he was worried I'd fall. Remember?"

"… No."

Feliciano blinked before he seemed to realize something that made his cheerful face fall into a gloomy expression. "Sorry, big brother."

"Forget it."

There was an awkward silence that seemed to mean something more than olive trees, but when Lovino stared determinedly down at his lap and Feliciano looked sad, but didn't burst into tears, Germany didn't ask any questions. Feliciano tucked his arm around Lovino's and, surprisingly, Lovino didn't pull away. It was something important, Germany was certain, but he just wasn't sure exactly what had dampened their spirits.

Trying to untangle their hair was rather like trying to untangle a spider's web. He knew how much those hairs affected the brothers, even if he didn't know exactly why, so he tried his best to be gentle, but Germany was the first to admit that his big fingers were better suited for holding a weapon than for anything even vaguely resembling gentility. Japan would have known what to say to keep Lovino calm and how to make Feliciano stay still. Japan's delicate hands would have been must more suitable for such intricate work.

"Well, Lovino?" Germany said after a time. “Did Spain try to invade you?”

"No. He didn't try anything. He's just really touchy. He likes to hug and kiss, but he hasn't hurt me."

Germany wished he could see Lovino's face, then. The two brothers were so expressive that it was nearly impossible for them to lie. "Very well. If he does make any attempt, call me. I'll stop him."

Lovino started to turn, and then stopped himself. "Why?"

"Because we are allied."

"You're allied with my brother."

"You are Italy, too, aren't you? I am allied with Italy – all of Italy."

"… oh."

"So you will call me if you need help, ja?"

"Yeah. I guess."

When the hairs finally worked loose, Germany smiled proudly at what he'd done. "There," he said. "See what you can do with a little perseverance?" When neither of the Italy's answered him, Germany looked at them over their shoulders. Both were fast asleep. He hadn't even noticed. He almost wanted to laugh. So much trouble over nothing but hair. He let his arms drape over their shoulders for a moment, before he shook himself. It certainly wasn't a time to be wool-gathering. He looked from Feliciano's familiar face to Lovino's. He was quite the one – foul tempered, violent, and just as vulnerable as Feliciano and just as scared of the least little thing. And then there was his association with Spain.  
Spain and Lovino had been associates for quite a long while. However, Lovino didn't seem at all happy to have Spain around and Germany strongly suspected that the moment he left the Italy Brother’s house, Spain would return. Feliciano knew enough to call Germany if there were trouble, but Lovino was stubborn and would probably just suffer though whatever game it was that Spain was playing. Why, Italy didn't even keep their doors locked at night; they clearly couldn't take care of themselves.

Germany slid out from behind the two smaller men and stood, looking down at them. So peaceful, when asleep. He picked the pillows up from where he'd tossed them on the floor and went to stand by Feliciano's side. As gently as he could, Germany slipped a hand behind Feliciano's head and tenderly lifted it just enough to slide the pillow back where it belonged. Then, he walked around the bed and did the same for Lovino. With that done, Germany spent some time rearranging the two until they looked comfortable, then pulled their blanket back up to their chins. As a final touch, he tucked them in before he made himself comfortable in a chair by the door.

Much better, he congratulated himself. Those hairs that had been tangled looked a bit rumpled, but he'd managed to get everything ordered and as it should be. He knew there would be more drama almost as soon as the two brothers woke; there would be more yelling and more crying, but, for the moment, all was quiet and he was exhausted.

Within minutes, Germany, too, was sound asleep.

To be continued…


	2. Attacked

Chapter 2: Attacked

Germany always woke early. There was so much work to be done that he'd gotten used to such early hours long ago. He stood from the chair he’d fallen asleep in and stretched his arms over his head to rouse himself. He didn't feel much rested. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. Sadly, there was all that paperwork still sitting on his desk, waiting to be filed and he needed to feed his dogs - Aster, Blackie, and Berlitz. There was also the matter of sorting out Lovino's situation. It would undoubtedly cause more paperwork.

Feliciano and Lovino were still sleeping. The two of them had rolled towards each other and what a sight they made. In the pale light of the moon, Feliciano wore the pleasant smile he nearly always had while Lovino's scowl had been softened by whatever he dreamed of. There weren't many differences between the two, Germany decided. Feliciano's hair was a touch more auburn than Lovino's brown and his face a little softer than the harder lines of Lovino's, but they both had a similar sweetness to them.

Though he hadn't meant to, Germany ended up staring at Feliciano. Such a fool of nation. Completely unable to take care of himself. How was Germany supposed to run a war if he had to keep chasing after Feliciano all the time? How could he keep his sanity with Feliciano always chattering in his ear? There were some days when he felt…

'A friend. He likes me as a friend.'

Germany shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek. The pain helped him focus, as always.

He should have called Japan, Germany decided. Japan was far better at dealing with personal issues than he was and, if nothing else, maybe he could tell Germany why Lovino seemed to be so angry all the time. Surely, it had nothing to do with Germany – he'd never even met Lovino before he started to associate with Feliciano. With that in mind, he headed for the kitchen where he knew the telephone was.

After turning the lights on, Germany took note of how surprisingly modest of an affair Italy's kitchen was. It was small and a bit too cluttered for Germany's comfort, but considering the kind of wonderful foods that Italy could turn out in their kitchen, Germany supposed that it was all they needed. There was a stove and an oven and a table in the middle of the room. Some bowls stacked on a counter and a large canister that held wooden spoons, a spatula, and a whisk. A well-used cutting board sat on one side of the sink and a bowl of fruit sat on the other. It was on the wall near the door that the telephone was hung. Germany dialed a number he'd long since memorized and patiently waited until a familiar, soft voice answered.

"Moshi, moshi."

"Hello, Japan. I hope this isn't an inconvenient time."

"Not at all, Germany-san. Good day to you."

"And to you. I was wondering if I might ask a favor." Germany flushed at the request and was very pleased that Japan couldn't see him. He hated asking for favors. At least he knew Japan wouldn't ask anything absurd in return. Truth be told, Japan would likely never ask for a return favor. "Do you think you could come to my house? I need some advice."

"Of course. I'll come right over. May I ask what the trouble is?"

"It's Italy."

"Ah."

"'Ah'? What do you mean, 'Ah'?"

"I simply mean that I should have expected this conversation. I am not unobservant, after all. I have seen the little signs that point to this. Not to worry. I will be over as soon as I can, though I'm not sure what help I can be."

"Oh, you'll be lots of help. You're just the right person to ask."

"Germany-san, you should know that I haven't much in the way of… ah… experience and…"

"What are you talking about? You always know just the right thing to say and I expect you're just the person to help calm things down."

"Calm? Is Italy upset?"

"Usually. They're sleeping now, though."

"… They?"

"Yes." Germany sighed. "I thought having one naked Italian in my bed was troublesome. You wouldn't believe what two of them together can get up to together."

Japan made a funny choking noise. "Two… naked…?"

"I don't think I'd have minded if they would have just stopped squirming. I suppose I'm used to Feliciano trying to cuddle all the time, but Lovino just kept twisting and turning. He's not very obedient. Needs more training, I think. And he would keep yelling."

"He was yelling? Was he hurt?"

"A little, but I don't think it was anything worth such a scene. Feliciano doesn't like to hurt people, after all. He didn’t do it on purpose."

"Wait. Feliciano hurt Lovino?"

"More like they were hurting each other."

Japan muttered something so quietly that Germany didn't hear it. Then he said, "Germany-san, I hesitate to ask this, but how did it happen that they were hurting each other?"

"I'm not sure about that myself. Feliciano gave me a phone call and begged me to come over. He said he couldn't get something of his brother's out. I didn't understand until I got over to their house and, well, it was pretty clear once I saw them in bed together. Apparently, Lovino got distressed when Feliciano mentioned that he slept with the two of us. The next thing I know, I'm in bed with them and… Japan? Are you alright?"

As soon as Japan stopped coughing, he said, "I'm fine. Just… something surprised me. That's all. Please go on."

"The thing is that, just when I was starting to get to the hard part - "

Again, Japan made a strange noise.

"Are you sure you're alright? Yes? Fine, then. Spain came along. He burst right into the bedroom. Such an odd look he had on his face when he saw the three of us in bed."

"I can imagine." Japan's voice was slightly faint.

"He just stood there and stared for a long while. I'd swear he was drooling. He must have been sick, I suppose. Once he saw what was going on, he got friendly and tried to join in. I thought it was very good of him, but Lovino started getting worked up when Spain tried to get in the bed. You never saw such flushed, writhing figure as he turned into. His reaction took me by surprise - I had no idea Lovino was so energetic and all because Spain touched him. Feliciano got into it, too, and started making all kinds of noise and before I knew it - "

"Germany-san, please…"

"But it really was a sight. That mess ended when I threw Spain out of the house."

"And why did you feel you had to do that? I almost dread the answer."

"Well, he hadn't been invited."

"Good manners must prevail, I suppose."

"Of course. Let him do it and anyone will think they'll be able to jump in bed with Italy."

"And we can't have that."

"Certainly not. As you can see, it's been a very eventful night and I need to talk about a few things. If you're busy, I understand."

"Nonsense. I wouldn't miss this for the world. Ah… do you mind if I bring my camera?"

"What for?"

"Considering the night you've just described, I thought something interesting might happen."

"If you must. I'll see you shortly, then. Thank - "

An unexpected, blinding pain made Germany's breath catch in his throat. He felt numb all over and then there was darkness.

…

…

His face was against the tile floor of Italy's kitchen. It was cool and smooth, and while it felt good, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that, for some reason, Japan was going to be cross with him. Oh. Telephone. He lifted his head enough to see that the telephone had been hung up and he hoped that whoever had hung it up had apologized to Japan for him. The movement caused another shot of pain to pound through his head. It was so bad that he felt sick. A touch to the worst spot on his head showed blood. Attacked, then.

With both hands on the floor, he clenched his teeth and pushed himself to sit up. Every movement was agony. He was tired and now hurt and… and Italy! Germany surged to his feet. He did his best to ignore the dizziness as he stumbled and crashed through the house, staggering up the stairs and nearly falling down them. He kept a hand on the wall until he reached Italy's bedroom and then threw open the door.

He no longer cared about whether or not he woke them and slapped his hand on the light switch to light the room. Feliciano, curled on his side, was just as he should have been. Lovino, however, was gone. His side of the bed was rumpled and his slippers, which had been beside the bed, were gone.

Germany's stomach churned with anger and fear. He had to remind himself to take a breath, just like he always had to do when he got too worked up, before he started a careful inspection of the room. The window was still closed and unbroken. The robe that had been hanging on the dresser door was gone. Those two facts and the knowledge that if anyone had tried to take Lovino by force, he would have made enough noise to wake the dead reassured Germany that Lovino hadn't been kidnapped. He put a hand back to his injured head and flinched. The invader, however, was not above using force. In the kitchen, there was a small puddle of Germany's blood where he'd fallen. Germany ignored it – he'd had far worse. He went from the kitchen to the front door where, he saw with narrowed eyes, the chair he'd put under the door knob to keep the door closed had been moved. It hadn't been knocked aside, but had been set to one side. The door had been opened from the inside and still stood open.

The idea that Lovino had attacked him seemed almost laughable. It wasn't impossible as Lovino definitely had a violent streak and an attack from the rear would have been right up Lovino's alley, but it just didn't seem right. There was no reason for him to attack and Lovino didn't seem foolish enough to pick a fight with someone as strong as Germany for no reason.

It was then that he heard the voices.

Germany crept closer to the front door and listened. He couldn't hear much of anything and knew he'd have to leave the relative safety of the house. He reached for his pistol, but it was gone. Of course, he realized. The attacker wouldn't have left him armed. Even unarmed, Germany slipped out of the house.

The moon was full and shed a good deal of light on the gardens that surround Italy's house. They were remarkable gardens. To the left were the vegetable gardens and to the right were flowerbeds. The scent was heavy and more wonderful that the sweetest perfume. Germany let his eyes drift around the garden, but he could see no one. He followed the sound of the voices to the side of the house where, not more than a few yards from where he hid at the corner of the house, Lovino and Spain stood.

Lovino had his arms wrapped around himself and was half turned away from Spain. "I can't believe you brought that thing."

Spain laughed in that easy way he had and lightly ran his hand up the handle of his long ax. "But I couldn't come without any weapons. You wouldn't want me to get hurt, would you? That Germany is so violent. At least Prussia is fun when he's not working." Spain paused. "Really, though. Germany didn't… hurt you? Did he?"

"Of course not! That great lummox just came running 'cause little brother called him; he was helping. And why are you here? You shouldn't be coming here in the middle of the night, like this, you moron! And you bashed him over the head! I have one houseguest in years and you go and attack him! Feliciano's going to have a fit when he sees what you did to Germany!"

Germany crept a little closer to the pair.

"You think I'd leave you alone with Germany? He does have a history of throwing his weight around."

"But you didn't know he was here until you got here. So… oh." Lovino's posture went stiff in the way that Germany had begun to recognize as the prelude to a tantrum. "You came here for me! You want me to go back with you! Oh, no! You promised! You said I could have a few days with just me and Feliciano! He's always at Germany's house and you never let me leave yours. I haven't seen him in months!"

"Don't get all upset. Really… how could I resist visiting when the two cutest nations were in the same house?"

Even from as far away as he was, Germany saw Lovino's mouth fall open. He closed it quickly. "I see. You didn't come for me, did you? You came for me AND little brother."

"Of course!" Spain cheerfully said. "I knocked Germany out cold, he won't cause any trouble. You stay out here and I'll go collect Feliciano, next. I'll get the two of you away before Germany's even awake."

"No!" Lovino grabbed Spain's arm. "Don't! Feliciano doesn't want to be away from Germany! He'll just start crying if he wakes up and Germany's nowhere around."

"Don't you worry about that. I'll treat Feliciano real sweet. He'll forget about Germany in no time."

Something inside of Germany, something buried and hidden, started screaming at that.

Normally, Germany wasn't one for sneak attacks. He was more of a straight forward sort of nation and preferred to go head-long at someone. However, Spain's long-handled ax did make him pause for a moment. His head still rung from the blow and he felt strangely sick to his stomach. A sneak-attack might be wisest.

Lovino tried to step away from Spain. "Don't you talk about my little brother like that! You're not gonna treat him 'sweet' or anyway else! He's fine right where he is!"

"Don't be so cranky, Romano." Spain pulled Romano close and fairly purred, "With him in my house, life would be about perfect, don't you think?"

With a kick to Spain's shin, Lovino attacked.

It wasn't a bad effort, Germany judged. Lovino certainly threw all that he had into it. But for all that he had the anger to fuel his attack, he simply didn't seem to know what to do with it and was reduced to ineffectual hits and a few kicks that did little more than make Spain wince.

"Enough, enough!" Spain said, sharply. "I don't even know why you're so upset, Romano."

Lovino stopped, then. He raised his chin, proudly. "I'm staying here with Feliciano. You go home."

"Now, then - "

Germany was in just the right place, then. He stepped out of the shadows behind Spain and seized a handful of curly, brown hair before he wrapped his other big hand around Spain's throat. "I thought I told you to stay away until you were invited back? You're being very irritating."

Spain clenched his fists and gratingly spat out, "I won't let you steal Romano!"

"Steal him? He's my ally. You're the one threatening to kidnap him and his brother. I will not tolerate such things! Lovino, go in the house."

"But…"

"Go now!"

Lovino looked between Germany and Spain, torn. He then closed his eyes and stiffened his back. He turned and started back to his house.

Spain's eyes went wide. "Wait! Romano!"

"You didn't come for me," Lovino didn't even turn around or slow his step as he spoke. "You just wanted Feliciano, again." Then he broke into a run and disappeared in the house.

Open-mouthed, Spain stared after Lovino. "W-what?"

Germany snorted. "And people say I'm thick. You idiot." He pushed Spain away from himself. "Go away. You think I won't attack you? I will. You've given me enough reason. You're causing trouble and making my stress level rise. Go away."

"I'm not leaving my Romano in your hands!" Spain snarled. He hadn't once let go of his ax and gripped it with both hands. He would fight for Italy. With a cry, he attacked.  
Spain wasn't weak, by any means. He had been a pirate, an explorer, and a conqueror. His fearsome name had been well-know about the world for centuries. The sight of his enraged face as he hurled himself at Germany was no mean thing.

Germany braced himself. He didn't really want to hurt Spain. He certainly didn't need another war on his hands. If he could grab hold of the shaft of Spain's weapon before Spain got in a good blow…

A tomato splattered against the side of Spain's face, knocking him off balance so badly that he fell to the ground. Spain blinked and used a hand to wipe the side of his face. "Eh? Romano? What are you doing?"

The look of anger on Lovino's face could have driven a demon away. He held an armful of tomatoes, some still with the stems attached, and tossed one up and down as if it were a ball. "I told you, I'm not going with you. I'm staying right here! You picking fights with this potato-eater won't change anything. Go away."

Spain looked hurt, almost devastated. He stood with his long ax in hand. "Romano… please - "

"Go!" Lovino hurled another tomato, catching Spain in the chest.

Germany was almost surprised that Spain did leave, then. He seemed somehow wilted as he left and Germany didn't relax until Spain had disappeared around a corner. He turned to Lovino, but Lovino wasn't looking at him. He stared, instead, at where Spain had gone to. In just his nightclothes and with his mouth turned down in an unhappy pout, Lovino was a pitiful sight. He lacked all of his usual energy. Then, that missing energy seemed to explode, surging back with a renewed vigor. Lovino swore aloud and spun around. With his face bright red and twisted from something that might have been anger or grief, he dropped all of his tomatoes and punched the side of the house.

It so stunned Germany that he didn't react for a minute.

Lovino went very quiet and very pale. He stared down at his hand. Tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

It seemed Germany would forever be looking after Italy. Germany took a step towards Lovino, but stopped when his stomach suddenly rolled, again. He swallowed hard and though the sick feeling didn't disappear, it did fade enough for him to take those next few steps to Lovino's side. "Let me see it."

"Leave me alone, dammit!" Lovino tried to hide his hand behind his back, like a child, but Germany was quick and took hold of him by the forearm and brought Lovino's hand out where he could see it. "It's nothing! It's nothing! Just leave me alone!"

Germany didn't bother with listening to Lovino's protests but held firm. The knuckles were already bruising and were, if Lovino's complaints were anything to go by, very sore to the touch. Wordlessly, Germany took Lovino back inside the house and to the sink. He filled the sink with cold water and sunk Lovino's hand into it. "Tell me what happened."

With a sulky sniff, Lovino said, "I heard a noise and when I got down here, you were on the ground and Spain was standing over you. He took your gun."

"I expected that. It would have been stupid of him to leave me armed after an attack. If I'd had my gun, I think I may have shot him as soon as I saw the two of you in the garden."

Lovino looked at him with wide eyes. "You can't just go around shooting people!"

"I can if they attack me. Besides, he was trying to take you and Feliciano."

Lovino looked down at his submerged hand. "Yeah, well… get used to it. Everyone wants Feliciano. That hasn't changed much. Spain, France, Austria, and even grandfa - " As he spoke, Lovino drew his injured hand out of the water to look at it.

Germany frowned and snapped, "Lovino!"

For some reason, hearing his own name made Lovino start. He jumped and accidentally hit his wounded hand on the side of the sink. He wasn't nearly so silent, that time, and held his wet hand to his chest while he bawled. "You bastard! That hurt! It's all your fault!" He sank down to squat on his heels and sniffed loudly when he looked up at Germany.

"Stop fussing." Germany pulled Lovino's hand away from his chest and looked at it, again. "When I tell you to keep it in the water, keep it in the water. It's bruised enough without you carrying on. Stop crying!" He ran his fingers along each finger and then around on Lovino's palm and the back of his hand. "I don't think anything is broken." He pulled Lovino to his feet and plunged the hand back into the water. "Stay there, this time."

"I don't have to do what you say! Why don't you just go back to bed, dumbass?"

Germany blinked. Such ingratitude. Such disrespect…

With a swift yank, Germany took a firm hold of Lovino's shoulder and gave him a hard swat on the backside. It made Lovino yelp, but when he tried to move away, Germany kept a steady hand on him. "Lovino," Germany grumbled. "You take that hand out of the water before I tell you to and you won't like the consequence." He was quite satisfied when he stepped away and Lovino stayed right at the sink where he should be. The worried, shocked look he gave Germany over his shoulder didn't bother Germany at all. If he could slug Feliciano in the gut for shirking his training to go flirt, then he certainly didn't mind bullying Lovino into taking care of himself.

When he got back to the bedroom, Feliciano was still asleep. It amazed him that Feliciano could sleep so deeply and through so much noise as Lovino could make. He smiled as sweetly in his sleep as he did when awake and Germany felt his heart start to pain him. A hand went to his chest where, under his shirt, he wore a small bauble on a chain. He could well understand, looking at Feliciano as he slept, why everyone wanted him. He had no doubt that Lovino was quite right about that. Who wouldn't want someone like Feliciano in their house?

The pain in Germany's heart grew. He shook his head and pushed it aside. There was work to be done and goodness only knew that nothing ever got done if he wasn't the one doing it. Germany bent down to shake Feliciano's shoulder. "It's time to get up. Wake up, we need to go."

Of course, Feliciano just muttered something and rolled away from Germany.

Germany rolled his eyes.

On his way back to the kitchen, Germany was at the top of the stairway when he suddenly had to stop. His head suddenly felt as though it were filled with cotton and stars danced in front of his eyes. He nearly fell, but caught himself with a hand on the banister. For a long moment, he stood there and just waited. "Tired. I'm just tired." He told himself before he started down the stairs. When he reached the kitchen, he was pleased to see Lovino still silently standing at the sink with his hand in the water. "You can take it out now. Dry it off, too."

"I know that," Lovino snapped. "I'm not stupid. Who do you think you are barging in here and telling me what to do?"

"I think I'm the one who's going to be taking care of you. Is there anything you want to bring?"

"Bring?" Lovino scowled as he used a dishrag to dry his hand. "Bring where?"

"To my home."

Lovino spluttered and whipped around to face Germany with wide eyes. "Who says I'm coming to your home?"

"I did."

"And what if I don't want to go with you?"

Germany raised an eyebrow. "You'd rather be here when Spain gets back? I don't think he's the type to give up easily."

Lovino opened his mouth, but closed it quickly and said nothing.

What that odd reaction meant, Germany had no idea. Why should Spain upset him so, when they'd been living together for so very long? Surely, they'd grown accustomed to one another after so many years. They must have learned to live with the other's follies and faults. Germany wanted to help, but… he just didn't have the words. Without the proper words of comfort to ease Lovino, Germany didn't know what else to do. "You will come to my house." He took Lovino's hand and examined it, again. Though painful, he didn't see any reason to worry. "You'll live. Go get dressed and get some spare clothes. See if you can't wake your brother."

"I'm already awake, Germany! It's so early; I don't think I've ever seen the world this early. Does anyone want breakfast?" Feliciano, as bright as ever, sauntered into the room, then froze. He saw his big brother's hand, then looked at Germany. "What happened?" He went to Lovino and looked at his hand as carefully as Germany had. "Just bruises, big brother."

"I know that!" Lovino grumbled. "Leave my hand alone! You're always so touchy! Go check him, will you? He's certainly not paying himself any attention!"

It took Germany a minute to realize that Lovino was talking about him, but he blamed that on being so tired and the fact that his head was feeling fuzzy, again.

"You're right, big brother! Germany, you're bleeding." Feliciano hugged himself. "Your head… and right down your shirt! Oh!" He rushed to Germany and put up both hands to Germany's head. His hands were gentle as they dug through Germany's hair to find the wound. Germany made certain not to flinch or make any noise when Feliciano found the wound, for he knew that any sign of pain would only upset Feliciano all the more. "What happened? Did you fall?"

Of course Germany wouldn't blurt out that Spain had attacked him. What good would that do? It would probably embarrass Lovino and…

"Spain! That bastard snuck in here through the cellar!" Lovino clutched his hurt hand to his chest as he ranted. His nostrils flared as he nearly yelled. "Snuck in like a thief in the night and smashed the potato-eater over the head with the handle of his ax! I can't believe his gall! I heard a noise and when I came down here, Germany was on the floor and that Spain! Didn't he just look all so pleased with himself!" He huffed looked over his shoulder at the kitchen door as though he expected the offender to burst back in. "And now there's blood all over the floor… I'll bet it's gonna leave a stain."

Feliciano flew to Lovino and embraced him as tightly as he could until Lovino, shouting that Feliciano was hurting his hand, managed to squirm away. "And your poor hand," Feliciano wailed. "What kind of accident did that?"

They went on like that, but Germany heard little of it. He stared at where Lovino had gestured to the floor – to the bloody puddle he'd left there. A stain of blood in Italy's home. No. He couldn't have that. The macabre image went fuzzy for a moment and Germany had to close his eyes and shake his head to steady his vision. He really didn't feel well. A little body slipped under Germany's arm and put one hand on his back and another against his chest. Germany looked down into Feliciano's wide eyes and fought not to blush. It didn't work well. 

"Germany? I think you should lay down a bit."

Germany took a deep breath and stepped away from Feliciano. "No time for that. I want to be away from here before Spain gets any more clever ideas."

'A friend. He only likes me as a friend.' Germany had to keep that well in mind. He'd once made the mistake of thinking that Feliciano's hugs and kisses and sweet smile were something more, but he wouldn't do that again. He'd let himself get his hopes up and deluded himself into thinking that Feliciano's desire to spend time with him was anything special. It wasn't. He knew that, now. Just because he'd given Germany roses on Valentine's Day… it hadn't meant anything. Not a thing. 'Stupid! Stupid!', Germany berated himself. 'Went and upset Feliciano all over nothing. Just because I thought… stupid!'

"Ve? Germany?" Italy peered up into Germany's face. He blinked his big eyes and Germany looked away from him. "We'll get away soon, but you go sit down for a bit." He tried to pull Germany to one of the kitchen chairs, but Germany shook him off and stepped away.

"Go upstairs and get what you want to take with you. Quick, now!" He barked the last and it sent both of the brothers scurrying upstairs. Germany did his best to ignore the worried look Feliciano sent over his shoulder at him. Once he was alone, Germany looked around the kitchen. The blood. He took a towel from beside the sink and got down onto his hands and knees. The movement only made his head hurt more. He wiped and scrubbed the floor, but just when he'd almost finished, another drop of blood splattered in front of him. He was still bleeding.

"Stupid!" He berated himself. "Should have bandaged that, first!"

"You're not stupid, Germany." Feliciano sat cross-legged on the floor next to Germany. "Sit up. I can do this much, at least." He set a metal box marked with a large red cross on the front of it on his lap. Inside, were bandages and adhesive tape, and a great many other things that belonged in a first aid kit. He chatted all the while that he washed Germany's wound and wrapped a bandage around his head. "Big brother told me what happened with Spain and he said he's going to stay with us. I'm so happy. It'll be nice for him to get a vacation and I think he'll like Germany once he gets to know you." He finished his work and smiled at Germany. "There! You look much better, now, but I think the blood can wait."

Germany shook his head. "It'll stain."

"It can be cleaned up later. I don't mind stains and neither does big brother, really. Big brother's almost done packing. Let's go up and help him."

Germany wanted to. He knew it would make Feliciano happy, but he just… couldn't. He stared at the drying blood. "It needs to be cleaned up."

"Leave it. It's not important." Feliciano had never spoken in so solemn a tone.

But it was a mess and it was his fault. If he had been more aware, if he hadn't been so distracted by talking with Japan, then it wouldn't have happened. Lovino wouldn't have been subjected so such a confrontation with Spain and Feliciano wouldn't be so worried. He couldn't leave the mess.

"Germany? Please?"

"I... can't. You go help your brother."

"I did help him. Now, I'm here to help you." Feliciano took Germany's hands. "The mess isn't important. I promise. Stand up."

"I can't leave it." Germany couldn't look at Feliciano. "You know I can't! I just… give me five minutes. I'll be ready when Lovino gets down."

There was nothing in the world, Germany decided, that was quite as shameful as being pitied by Feliciano, of all people. And it was pity he got, then, when he finally looked back at Feliciano. 

Feliciano shook his head sadly. "You're hurt and what if we get attacked? You can't save us if you're like this. Let's go home quickly so we'll all be safe and you can rest." Feliciano began to tug on Germany's arm, urging him to stand.

He did have to protect the brothers. "We'll come back to clean it up?"

"As soon as your head's feeling better."

"I have to let the dogs out. They'll be hungry, too."

"Big brother will like them." Feliciano pulled a little harder and Germany gave in and stood up. "There. See? No problem. You brought your car?"

"No, moron, he walked. What do you think?" Lovino came back into the kitchen with a suitcase and strode right up to Germany and poked him in the chest. "You had better not have walked here, 'cause I'm not carrying your heavy self all the way back to your house."

"The car's outside." He started towards the door, but a wave of dizziness hit and he had to pause for a moment. He let out a sigh and put a hand to his forehead. "Give me a minute."  
Lovino snorted. "A minute? You look ready to keel over, dummy."

A pair of hands on his shoulders got Germany's attention. "Ve! Big brother's right. You don't look so good, Germany. Let me drive!"

"Oh, no!" Lovino shouted, making Germany wince in pain. "I'm not letting you drive! Who's big brother around here, anyway?"

"But… your hand?"

"It's only bruised; driving with it isn't going to kill me. Besides, I drive better with one hand than you do with two."

Somehow, Germany found himself bullied into the backseat of his own car where Feliciano buckled his seatbelt for him. "Don't speed." Germany grumbled. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He really wanted to sleep. Feliciano got in the backseat next to Germany and took his hand. "I'll sit with you, Germany, and then I'll wake you up when we get to your house. You can take a nice nap for a while."

There was a squeal of tires when Lovino hit the accelerator. He drove as recklessly as Feliciano, but Germany wasn't aware of it at all. With his head tilted slightly to the side and one hand resting on his knee, Germany had fallen fast asleep. He wasn't even aware of when Feliciano, still holding Germany's hand, leaned over a bit to rest his head against Germany's shoulder.

 

To be continued…


	3. Aster Approves

Chapter 3: Aster Approves

Germany didn't know how long he'd slept, but when he started to wake and hovered pleasantly in that cloudy area between sleep and awareness, he knew they were still in his car. His car… and he wasn't driving. He couldn't find it alarming enough to make him open his eyes, though. He leaned against something soft and warm and felt so comfortable. The car jostled and bumped, but even that wasn't enough to wake Germany entirely. He could smell Feliciano, which seemed a bit odd to him, even if his sleepy state. He breathed a little deeper, enjoying the smell of herbs and spices.

"How much further is this place? Where does he live? On the moon?"

"Don't be silly, big brother. He lives in his house. It's only a few more miles. Just stay on this road." Feliciano's voice wavered in that familiar way it always did when he was frightened of something. "I think maybe I should call Hungary. She might know what to do."

"I know what do to!" Lovino snapped. "You and me, we've seen as much blood and war as any other nation, we don't have to go running to someone just because of a little more!"

"But he's not waking up and Germany always – always! – wakes up before the sun!"

Germany wanted to tell Feliciano that he shouldn't worry. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing that a little sleep wouldn't cure, anyhow. His BOSS had been so demanding, lately, and there was always work to be done. He hadn't had time to rest; that was why he was so tired. He just needed to catch up on some sleep.

Lovino barked, "Don't you go getting all worked up; we've got enough problems without you bawling."

"But, big brother… you're crying, too."

"I am not! There's nothing to cry about, Feli. Nothing to be scared of. I'm here, aren't I? Don't you think I'll take care of you? Of course I will. There's nothing to cry about and if you think that big one back there is the only one who can take care of you, you're wrong." Lovino made a choking noise. "I'm the big brother and I'm going to take care of us. Who else is gonna? Nobody else we can trust now that… Spain…"

Feliciano sniffed. "Lovino? What did Spain do to make you so mad? You always were grumpy with him, but you said he brought his ax to our house and he snuck in… he's never done that before. And he hurt Germany and Germany was only there to take care of us. I don't understand."

"I don't wanna talk about it. He was just being his own stupid self! Look, just… just be quiet."

Germany felt Feliciano pat his hand. "Brother, I think the bleeding's stopped. Oh! The blood’s gone right down his back! This is terrible!"

"I know! I know! You've said so a dozen times, now. Just keep calm. You freak out and he's gonna wake up."

"But… how could Spain do this? He's our friend and Germany's our friend. They shouldn't fight."

At Feliciano's growing distress, Germany struggled to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was the road ahead, which seemed to be moving much too fast. "Feliciano?"

"Ah! You're awake! I'm sorry, Germany. I tried to be really quiet so you could rest, honest. Are you alright? Are you dying?" He grabbed one of Germany's arms and squeezed so tightly that it actually hurt. "Please, don't die! I'll be braver and stronger and I'll work so hard during training and you'll be so proud to have me as your ally! I'll be just as wonderful as Japan!"

"Feliciano," Germany raised a hand to rub at his eyes and help him wake up entirely. "Just promise me that you'll try your best. And you are as wonderful as Japan." Germany groaned and started to sit up straight. He flushed at realizing that he'd been napping on Feliciano's shoulder. "I promise I'm not going to die, I've just got a headache. I've had far worse in battle – you know that."

"But," Feliciano put his little hand on Germany's cheek and looked up at him. "I worry. Each little hurt could be something awful. I don't want you to die."

With his breath caught in his chest and blushing so fiercely that he thought he might explode, Germany couldn't look away from Feliciano. He felt utterly frozen and terrified. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do.

"If all this fluff isn't stopped right this second, I'm going to be sick all over Germany's car! Knock it off, you two!"

"Yes, big brother."

The rest of the ride was spent in as much silence as could be had when Feliciano and Lovino were together in an enclosed space. Lovino swore up and down at other drivers, his brother, Germany, the weather, and anything else he could think of. Feliciano sang happily and held Germany's hand and babbled about seemingly everything that happened to wander across his mind. Germany said nothing and eventually fell back to sleep. The next thing he knew, Feliciano was shaking him awake as Lovino pulled into Germany's driveway.

There, at the front door, Japan stood with his arms at his side and his camera hanging around his neck.

Feliciano jumped out of the car and dashed to Japan. He threw his arms around Japan and wailed. "Germany's hurt! You've got to help because I don't know what to do. You've got to save him!"

"Hurt?" Japan quickly followed Feliciano to the car and together they helped Germany out.

Germany waved them both away. "Enough of that. I'm not some invalid. I can take a few steps into my own home." And he did, slowly, but as steadily as could be expected considering how his head was spinning. The sleep had helped a great deal and he knew there was aspirin in the bathroom for his headache. He wanted a shower and he knew his clothes would have to be changed, considering how upset Feliciano had gotten at the idea of blood being all over them.

The barking of the dogs was a welcome sound for Germany, Feliciano, and Japan, but Lovino had a less than favorable reaction. He froze in spot and started to tremble all over. He took a hesitating step backwards towards the car before Feliciano caught his arm and told him that there was nothing to worry about.

"Germany's doggies are really sweet. They're big and drool a lot and like to jump up on the sofa, but they don't bite at all unless he tells them to and he doesn't do that much at all."

"How many dogs?" Lovino asked, guardedly.

"Three. And they're really pretty." Feliciano opened the front door and all three dogs burst out of the house. "See? Pretty!"

The dogs wagged their tails happily at Germany, Feliciano, and Japan, but were fascinated by Lovino. They sniffed at his feet and knees and circled around him several times before Germany snapped his fingers and, obediently, they all went into the house.

After that, Germany's awareness seemed to start to drift, again. He heard the chatter from his allies and was vaguely aware that someone had closed the door. He wasn't aware, however, of Japan walking by his side until Japan spoke in a tone that was, for him, unusually loud. Even odder was that Japan actually reached out and took Germany's elbow to get his attention.

"Germany-san?"

"Yes?"

"You just walked past the bathroom. I believe you said something about wanting to get washed up?"

"I did?" He didn't remember saying it.

"Yes." Japan moved a few steps closer. "I think I got a little confused when we were talking on the phone. Why don't you tell me, again, what happened at Italy's house?"

Germany opened his mouth, but he couldn't get his thoughts into any rational sense. He put a hand to his head, as if that would help, "I'm very tired, Japan. I think I just need to sleep."

"You'll get blood on your bed, Germany." Feliciano was suddenly at Germany's side and tugged on his sleeve. "Don't worry. I'll help you and your bed will stay clean."

He didn't want to, but… Feliciano cheated! He did! He knew Germany wouldn't want to get anything dirty and blood just never washed out quite right. Germany felt like crying. "It's on my clothes?" He allowed Feliciano to pull him towards the bathroom.

"Just a little and I can get it out, I'm sure. You just give me a little while and it'll be fine." Feliciano kept up his usual chatter while he insistently urged Germany to the bathroom. He lowered the toilet lid and had Germany sit. "Let me just…" He trailed off as he unwound the bandage from Germany's head. At every pass he made, Germany could see more and more blood stained fabric. "Oh." Feliciano made a worried little noise. "Oh, I think… Japan?"

Germany hadn't even noticed that Japan was still with them and he felt suddenly guilty. "Guest." He slurred out the words as he couldn't seem to make his tongue work correctly. "You want… drink? Breakfast?" What time was it? He didn't know if it was even dinner time, but he thought it had been dark when they got to the house. "Dinner?"

Japan smiled gently. "I'm quite fine. Please, don't worry for me. If I may look?" He put both hands on Germany's head and tilted it forward to get a better look at the wound. He said nothing, at first, but released Germany's head and looked down at him with those wonderfully calm eyes of his. "I'm going to get some clean bandages. Veneziano-kun, you wash the wound – very carefully, very gently – with soap and water. Try to get his hair clean, too." He left, quietly closing the door behind him.

When nothing happened for a moment, Germany looked up at Feliciano and wondered why he couldn't seem to focus on him. "Are you done?"

"No!" Feliciano jumped at the question and grabbed a washcloth from the closet. "Haven't even started, yet. I know you're tired, but - oh! It looks so bad!"

If there was one thing that Germany didn't want, it was to upset Feliciano. "Go to bed, Feliciano. I can take care of it."

"No! No! Even you can't see the back of your own head and it would hurt so much to take care of it yourself and you don't have to worry about anything because I might be good at this – I've had lots of good doctors at my place, you know. You just sit still." He damped the cloth and scrubbed at the bar of soap with it. "I'm sure Spain will apologize, Germany. He's usually so nice. I just don't understand. Big brother didn't want to talk too much about it. He said Spain was just being himself, but he doesn't usually go around hitting people – not since he stopped playing pirates with England."

The washing of the wound didn't hurt nearly as much as Germany thought it would. It did hurt, of course, but it was sort of a distant pain, as if it weren't really happening to him. He closed his eyes and felt as Feliciano moved onto washing his hair as best as he could with nothing but the wash cloth. It felt good. He felt little fingers at his throat and opened his eyes to see Feliciano unbuttoning his shirt. "What?"

"Your shirt has blood on it, remember? It needs to be washed. You just sit still and let me take care of you."

He didn't like it. He didn't want Feliciano to see him without his clothes. He knew well enough that he wasn't good looking – there was no reason to embarrass himself all the more by showing himself off to Feliciano. So he blushed and tried to brush Feliciano's hands away. "No."

"Blood, remember? Your shirt's bloody. Can't get it on the bed."

Feliciano really wasn't fighting fair and Germany couldn't help it when he whined, "I'm sleepy."

"I know. Just a minute. Just a minute."

Then Germany' shirt was off and he didn't know where it had gone. It was supposed to go on the hook by the door! The floor. Feliciano had tossed it on the floor. Germany didn't want his shirt on the floor - it didn't belong there; it was supposed to go on the hook. He wanted to tell Feliciano, to remind him of the rule, but he was so tired and he was suddenly crying. He didn't know why; he should just bend over and pick his shirt up – there was no reason to cry. He was the strong one, after all. He was the one who took care of everyone else. He could pick up his own shirt. But there he sat, quiet and immobile as Feliciano silently used both hands to wipe the tears off Germany's face. Feliciano used the wet cloth to wash Germany's back and neck and started chatting as he worked, but Germany was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying and missed most of it. He briefly came to his senses when Japan came back into the bathroom with a fresh roll of bandages. Without a word, he leaned over Germany's shoulder to look at the wound and praised Feliciano for a job well done.

"I think the dogs are hungry, Veneziano-kun. Perhaps Germany-san would appreciate it if you would feed them and then show your brother where he can sleep. It is getting quite late."

Feliciano brightened at having a task he could confidently manage. As was his habit, he kissed Germany on the cheek before he left and promised, "I'll make sure Aster gets only the best, don't you worry! And I'll see that big brother gets the best bed in your house!"

Germany thought he nodded, but he wasn't sure and he watched Feliciano skip out of the room.

Japan began rewrapping Germany's head. "I believe you will be healed soon. How do you feel?"

"Tired."

"Then I think we should…"

Whatever happened after that, Germany wasn't sure. He remembered leaning on Japan's narrow, strong shoulders and he remembered laying down, but that was it.

Later, it was still dark when Germany woke, feeling blessedly clear-headed. His head throbbed painfully, but at least he was thinking straight. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember going to bed. He blinked and turned towards the warm spot beside him. Feliciano, of course, lay beside him, curled on his side. Germany smiled and kept still. The bed was warm and Feliciano looked so peaceful.

Still, there was paperwork to do. And why hadn't he heard the dogs? They were normally so hungry first thing in the morning. He tried to be quiet as he sat up, but he was so sore and couldn't help the little groan that escaped him. Of course, nothing like that would wake up Feliciano. Germany swung his legs over the side of the bed and paused when he saw Japan sitting in a chair by the bed. A book lay on his lap and his head had lolled gently forward until his chin rested on his chest. His breathing was steady and slow.

Well… there was no point in that. Funny that Japan hadn't just slipped into bed with them. Although Japan was shy and modest, he had gotten used to Feliciano's physical displays of affection and eventually had become more comfortable with sleeping in the same bed as them, when necessary. After all, when they'd been stranded on that island, the nights had gotten cold and, much to Feliciano's delight, cuddling had proven to be the most efficient way to stay warm. And even if Japan hadn't wanted to share a bed that night, there were a couple of spare rooms that Japan was more than welcome to use.  


Whatever Japan's reason for not going to bed, Germany didn't think it sensible to sleep sitting up in a chair. Japan was going to have a sore neck when he woke up and then how would he train? Germany stood up, steadied himself, and then went to Japan. As gently as he could, he slipped one arm under Japan's knees and the other behind his back. It was no effort at all to lift him to put him in the bed. He swung Japan's legs up onto the bed and covered him with the blanket.

Japan didn't so much as stir when Germany tucked him in.

Good. Germany stood back and took stock. He liked having his allies where he knew where they were. Japan, Feliciano, and… ? Someone was missing. Japan lay where Germany had been. Next to him, Feliciano slept. Next to Feliciano, there was a Lovino-shaped rumple. He stared at that rumpled spot.  


Lovino had been there.

Now he was gone.

Spain's furious tirade raged loud and clear in Germany's mind. With a swear, Germany turned on his heel and ran. He would kill Spain for such a blatant move! How dare he! Sneaking right into Germany's house, right into his own bedroom! Spain had clearly snatched Lovino, stealing him right from Feliciano's side! It was unpardonable! Barreling as fast as he could through the house, he grabbed a flashlight before he charged out into his front yard, fully intending to go straight to Spain and rescue Lovino, but stopped just outside the front door.

At his right, sticking out from between two rose bushes next to Germany's house, were a pair on tall boots. Near the boots was a very familiar brown, wagging tail. Quietly, Germany went to the roses and looked down. Lovino, with a bit of dirt smeared across one cheek, slept soundly. His fingernails, where his hands rested on Aster's back, were caked with soil. The flowerbeds all around Lovino were neat and had been cleared of weeds. Lovino had been weeding the garden in the middle of the night. No matter why he'd decided to do it at night, the gardening must have been good for him. Germany had never seen Lovino so at peace. His face was relaxed and there wasn't a hint of the characteristic tension in him.

Aster rose up a little and lapped once at Lovino's face before she turned and looked at Germany.

"Ah. You approve of him, then?" He remembered how she'd done virtually the same thing to Feliciano and to Japan when they'd started spending so much time at Germany's house. Feliciano had fallen asleep by the fire. Aster had calmly walked in and just looked at him for a moment. She licked his face, and then looked at Germany before she lay down beside Feliciano. With Japan, she'd sat with him while he read and, after examining him for a moment, she'd startled him by jumping up on him and licking his face.

As he'd done earlier for Japan, Germany carefully picked up Lovino and carried him inside the house. In the kitchen he noticed the other two dogs sleeping in the middle of the room. Their food and water bowls had obviously already been filled and half-way emptied. Germany looked down at Lovino in surprise and muttered, "Thank you." There was no problem until he reached the bed where Feliciano and Japan slept and he realized that he was about to put a filthy Lovino in his nice clean bed. He stood next to the bed for some time trying to decide. He could try to wash Lovino, but if Lovino woke up in the middle of it, he was likely to have a disagreeable reaction. With a sigh, Germany decided that the bed sheets could be washed. He set Lovino down on the bed and tucked him in as securely as he had Japan. Aster lay down on the floor at the foot of the bed and fell asleep.

Finally, his allies were together.

Germany headed towards the bathroom to get ready to start the day. Shower first, he told himself, then… then…

"Where are my clothes?" He wasn't wearing anything except his underpants.

Shocked, Germany stared down at himself. He might as well have been completely undressed! A dark flush made his head spin for a moment as the realization hit him. The problem wasn't so much the fact that he'd been undressed – Feliciano did have a habit of sneaking into Germany's bed no matter what either of them was wearing – but the idea that he'd been so weak that he couldn't even remember someone taking his clothes… how embarrassing! Germany covered his face with both hands, even though there was no one to see him blushing. He could just imagine his brother's mocking laughter.  


When he didn't feel quite so horrified about his behavior, Germany took his hands away from his face and looked back at his allies. It had to have been Feliciano. He couldn't imagine Lovino undressing him and while Japan would have if it would have helped Germany, he would have at least given Germany a nightshirt to sleep in. Feliciano, though… yes. It had to have been him. He'd probably thought Germany would be more comfortable sleeping without his clothes.

It touched Germany that Feliciano had taken the effort for him, but he was careful to keep in mind that it was the act of a friend. It had been compassion – nothing more. Italy would have done the same for his brother or for Japan if they'd been the ones who'd been injured. Feliciano had made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in Germany as anything other than a friend. Last Valentine's Day, when Germany had gotten his hopes so high…

Germany felt sick just thinking about that awful day. He'd been so happy as he walked to the restaurant. He'd had the ring especially made for Feliciano and he'd been so careful to follow the directions of the book of relationships he'd gotten. He'd studied and planned and it should have gone smoothly.  


But Feliciano hadn't accepted the ring. He'd just stared and turned very pink in the face and started breathing too hard. Clearly, Germany had done something wrong. Shamed by his ignorance and more than a little frightened by Feliciano's bizarre reaction, Germany had shoved the ring back into his pocket. He paid for the meal for both of them, then all but run out of the restaurant.

That night, as he'd laid in bed alone, he'd felt that he had finally understood. How had he misconstrued everything so badly? All of those kisses and hugs – they weren't important to Feliciano. He gave them out to everyone. He was constantly sneaking away from training to flirt with girls and Germany had, more than once, seen Feliciano smiling sweetly at everyone from Switzerland to Greece. Those sweet smiles that made Germany feel so warm inside, were obviously worthless to Feliciano. He dropped them wherever he went, scattering them as easily as the wind spread dandelion fluff.

They hadn't felt worthless to Germany. How many other people smiled at him so easily? Who else would beg him – of all people! – for a hug? Who else would even think of giving him flowers? It meant so much… it meant nothing.

Before Feliciano had stormed into his life, Germany had never had a friend. He didn't know how to act with one, so every experience with Feliciano had been a frightening new experiment in which he hoped he acted in an acceptable manner of a friend, but unless Feliciano started to cry about something Germany did or didn't do, Germany was never sure if he was doing 'friendship' the right way.

All the hugs and kisses…

It meant nothing to Feliciano. Absolutely nothing.

With a sharp shake of his head, Germany forced himself away from the memory of that nightmarish day. There was work to be done and he'd wasted enough time. A glance at the clock on the wall showed that it was already six a.m. – he'd overslept by a whole hour. It was disgraceful. How was he to get any work done if he was going to sleep half the day away? And then, when he did wake, he started wool-gathering about…

There was work to do.

As he did every morning, Germany started his day with a quick shower after which he spent a good half an hour cleaning the bathroom. When he'd finished and was dressed respectably, he stood back and admired his work. The porcelain all gleamed and the metal faucet shone. There wasn't a single hair on the floor and the mirror was perfect. He knew right well that as soon as Feliciano woke, all of his hard work would be ruined, but at the moment, he was quite happy.

"Germany-san, I'm pleased to see that you're awake." Japan, still wearing his clothes from the previous day, stood behind Germany. He smiled slightly, but his eyes were bloodshot and his normally neat hair was unkempt. "We were worried for you."

"Why? I've had worse injuries."

Japan didn't reply, but looked past Germany and into the bathroom. "Did you need to do that this morning?"

"Of course. Why were you sleeping in a chair? You know you're welcome here. Any bed you want. If my bed was too crowded, you should have woken me up. I'd have let you have my place with the brothers."

"No." Japan held up a hand. "Because I know you, I know that you didn't mean to insult me by suggesting that I would wake up an injured man and take his bed. As I said, we were all concerned for you. You weren't quite acting yourself. A friend of mine, who has a good deal of medical knowledge, confirmed my fears. You needed to be woken every now and again. Instead of going to sleep, I decided that I would be the one to do this so I spent the night in the chair by your bed."

Germany rubbed the back of his head and winced when he hit the still sore injury. "You didn't call your big brother, did you?"

"Considering current political relations, it seemed wiser to consult someone other than China. I wasn't certain that he would have your best interests at heart. No, I have a good friend who is always willing to help me."

"… I don't remember you waking me up."

"I'm not surprised. It's nothing to worry for. How is your head, now?"

"Well enough. It hurts, but I'm thinking clearly. At least I think I am."

Japan frowned a little. "I had thought it would heal, by now. It wasn't that serious. Granted, if you'd been a human, then it would have been dreadful enough that I would have taken you to a hospital, but our kind heal so much faster…"

Germany waved off Japan's concern. "It's the war. It strains us all.

"Nevertheless, I think that some more rest would do you good." Japan carded his fingers through his hair in an attempt to straight it without appearing to primp.

Germany knew the feeling well. "No, I've slept enough. You are welcome to shower, of course. I will have breakfast ready shortly."

There was a little hesitation in Japan's voice when he said, "Germany-san, may I ask you something?"

That gave Germany pause. Japan never asked for favors. "What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" He thought for a moment. Russia and China were both powerful and close neighbors of Japan and, land-wise, Japan was absolutely tiny in comparison. "Tell me who is it and I will make sure they leave you alone. What conceit - first Spain starts acting strange and frightening Lovino and now someone near your house is getting uppity?"

"No. It's nothing like that, I assure you. You called me the other day and said that you wanted to talk to me. You needed some advice?"

"Ah. Yes.” It was shameful to admit that he couldn't do something on his own, that he needed help, but if it was for his allies, he'd do it. "I am not good with people." Germany admitted. "I do not understand many things that people do and say. When I was at Italy's house, and Lovino suddenly became so angry, I was at a loss. I didn't know how to calm him. I was hoping that you might give me some guidance in how to deal with Lovino's anger. Also, maybe you can explain Spain. When Lovino is spitting hate at Spain to keep him away, why does Spain just smile and keep trying to get close to him?"

"I will give it some thought for you. While we are on the subject of the two Italy-kun's, I think you should know that when you all arrived here last night, both Veneziano-kun and Romano-kun were very troubled. They were confused and frightened. I think a short vacation might be in order."

It wasn't a bad idea. From what little he remembered of the trip back to his house, the two had been very upset about the whole ordeal. "Where do you suggest?"

"I would be pleased and honored to have everyone as guests in my house. It's altogether possible that Romano-kun's temper might benefit from some relaxation."

"He would like your gardens," Germany said, thinking about how Lovino had slept in the rose bushes. "Yes, this is a good idea. Perhaps Lovino would like those hot springs of yours and Feliciano always did like your art. It's a sound strategy, as well. I fully expect Spain to come sniffing around for Lovino, but he may not think to look at your house." Germany nodded, decisively. "It's decided, then. Those two will be packed and ready to go before lunch. You may use my car."

Japan looked surprised. "Germany-san, I had meant that you would come with us. I didn't wish for you to stay behind. This would be a vacation for all of us."

"Oh, I can't go. There's too much work to do." He turned away from Japan and started for the kitchen. "Not just the paperwork I didn't finish yesterday, but more will be delivered today and the troops need to be trained." He paused then. Lovino was part of the 'troops', now. Germany was going to have to make another training shirt for 'trooper number 3'. "And my BOSS has wanted more and more meetings with me, lately, though I'm not sure why. He always seems to be going on about something." Germany rubbed at sore spot on his forearm. "There always seems to be something he's not telling me."

"He can call and talk to you on the telephone if he needs to reach you. We are allies, are we not? Surely it would be beneficial for us to have time to strengthen our bond, especially now that Romano-kun has come to stay with us. As for your work… what are allies for? I will help you with the paperwork. Whatever paperwork that is delivered today can be sent to my house and if it needs to be dealt with, it can be done there. Veneziano-kun can see to the house and make arrangements for Hungary-san to come mind your dogs. I do not know Romano-kun's skills, yet, but we can surely find him something to help with. As for the troop’s training, I’m sure they would appreciate a few days vacation, too. Think of it as a morality boost."

It was an appealing idea.

Italy's house was beautiful with warm breezes and music always in the air. Japan's house, though, always smelled pleasantly of sea water and flowers. There was a peace in Japan's house that was unmatched anywhere else in the world. It would be good for both of the brothers. "I don't want to force my work on you."

"You didn't. I offered."

"And Feliciano and Lovino would likely appreciate some time alone together. I overheard Lovino tell Spain that he and Feliciano were planning to spend a couple of days together and he was very upset when he thought that Spain was intending to interfere. It might be better if I stay here. Lovino isn't very fond of me."

"Nonsense. He just doesn't know you, yet. If he and his brother wish for some privacy, we can easily give it to them without abandoning you here." Japan folded his arms across his chest, a well-known signal that he was finished discussing. "And as for the final objection that I know you are thinking about, Hungary-san loves your dogs and won't mind watching them for you."

With nothing left to argue, Germany nodded. Hungary would jump at the chance to dog-sit and Japan was easily trusted enough to help with the paperwork. If the Italy brothers wanted private time together, then perhaps Japan would take Germany to one of those martial arts schools he was so proud of.

"Germany-san, may I ask why you keep rubbing your arm? Are you injured there, too?"

He hadn't even realized that he was still rubbing it. "Ah, no. It's nothing." He immediately took his hand away from arm. "I appreciate the offer and - "

Feliciano's panicked yell of, "Germany!" made both Germany and Japan start running back to the bedroom where they found Feliciano awake and frantic. He sat on the bed on his knees – naked, as usual - and was trying to shake his brother awake. He sobbed, "He won't wake up! Big brother? Please!"

Lovino's eyes were squeezed closed and he sweated dreadfully. His hands were balled into fists at his side, clenching so tightly at the blankets that it looked painful. His whole body was tensed and trembled. Tears streamed freely down the sides of his face. There were veins standing up on his forehead and neck.

Without warning, Lovino started to fight. He swung one fist wildly as he attacked whatever haunted his nightmare. Feliciano was too close and caught the fist with his face. He fell backwards and tumbled off the bed with a cry. Lovino kept fighting whatever nightmare he was seeing.

After gathering Feliciano up from his fall and helping him to stand, Germany watched with great admiration as Japan sat beside Lovino on the bed and began to speak in a soft, even tone. "Hush, now. You're safe. Everything's alright. Nothing can hurt you here." Over and over Japan repeated those words until Lovino stopped swinging his fist. After a bit, Japan gingerly chanced at taking one of Lovino's hands. When Lovino didn't move to strike him, Japan held the hand patted the hand. "Nothing scary here. No danger. You can sleep, now. Such a good boy."

If it had been left up to him, Germany thought, he would have just thrown a glass of water on Lovino and let that wake him up. After all, that was how Prussia used to wake him from nightmares. It was a good thing that Japan was there. His soft approach seemed to be working as Lovino's body slowly relaxed and his yelling faded into nothing more than upset whimpers. Within minutes, he was sound asleep, breathing deeply and peacefully.

"How did you know to do that?" Germany asked when Japan stood and straightened the blankets covering Lovino.

"When I was very small, I often had nightmares. China…" He paused, as he often did when speaking of his older brother. "China used to say such things to me to soothe me." He gave a sheepish smile. "He was very kind to me when I was young."

"Feliciano," Germany said, scowling at Lovino's now peaceful face. "We are going to visit Japan's house for a couple of days. There are some preparations that need to be made. You will make us all breakfast and call Hungary and ask her if she would mind taking care of the dogs."

"Vacation? Yay!"

"Don't get too excited." Germany rubbed his aching forearm. "That doesn't mean you get to skip training."

 

To be continued…


	4. Lovino

Chapter 4: Lovino

Upon arriving at Germany's house, Lovino had found himself abandoned for a few minutes in the sitting room while Feliciano and Japan took Germany away to get cleaned up from his wounds. It wasn't much of a sitting room, to his mind. Spartan was the right word for it. There were hardly any of the little trinkets or dust-collectors that most people decorated with and the only furniture was a sofa, two arm chairs, and a small coffee table. Lovino spent perhaps five minutes in that room before Feliciano came in and took him to a bedroom.

Thankfully.

He was exhausted. He'd missed his afternoon siesta for the first time ever and he was about ready to fall down on his face.

The room that Feliciano had led Lovino to was of a modest size with a large bed in the middle. "You're sure this is his guest room?" It didn't look like a guest room. There were personal photographs on the walls: pictures of Feliciano sleeping in the shade of a tree and one of Germany, obviously taken while he wasn't looking, wearing an apron while doing something in the kitchen. There were images of them together, too. One at a beach with Feliciano playing in the water while Germany watched from the shore and another with them both looking up at the night sky and Germany pointing up to something he saw. Still other pictures had Japan in them. He dressed very finely, in his sharp white uniform or in the brightly colored kimonos his house was famous for. In one photograph, Japan sat on his knees at the edge of a lake, staring out over the water. In another, he smiled softly at something Feliciano said.

Lovino scowled as he picked up the one picture that had all three of them in it. Feliciano was in the center, beaming at the camera, and hand one arm around Japan and the other around Germany. Germany stood stiffly, but was glancing at Feliciano from the corner of his eyes with a somewhat bewildered expression – as if there was some secret he couldn't quite figure out. Lovino set the photograph back on the dresser where he'd found it and looked at Feliciano. "This can't be a guest room."

But Feliciano smiled and pulled back the covers of the bed. "I promised Germany that I'd see you got the best bed in the house and this is it. I sleep here all the time and I promise it's very comfy."

That explained all the photographs, then. If Feliciano used the room, then he would have, of course, filled it with pictures of the people he cared for. That would be just like Feliciano.

"Make yourself comfortable, big brother. Oh! Or do you want to eat first? I can whip something up."

It had been a long while since he'd eaten, but… "No. I'm not hungry." He still felt kind of funny from everything that had happened. He shouldn't be there, at Germany's house. He didn't belong there. He belonged in his room in Spain's house. He just knew that Spain was going to be angry with him – how could he have just walked away so brazenly? He’d attacked Spain with tomatoes. Lovino wrapped his arms around his stomach, as if that would stop the queasy feeling. Spain had no right to be angry, Lovino told himself. He was the one who had to go and get drunk that night! Lovino was the one who should be angry! But he wasn't… really. He'd swear it to anyone who asked. He was definitely not angry at Spain because he just didn't care a bit about that idiot. And, honest, he wasn't hurt at all.

Of course, Lovino's long silence had worried Feliciano. Or maybe it was the fact that Lovino had refused food. Whichever it was, Feliciano didn't bother to even try concealing his anxiety.

Lovino sighed, "Don't you look at me like that, little brother. I'm just tired. Real tired and I want to sleep."

"Yeah. You didn't nap today. No wonder you're tired. You sleep well, then. I'm going to check on Germany." Feliciano's bright smile faltered. "Big brother… there was so much blood."

"Yeah well, he's safe now, right? That Japan's supposed to be pretty strong, isn't he? And smart? He'll make sure your Germany stays safe. And you said Germany had stopped bleeding." Lovino tightened his arms around himself. His stomach hurt. The guilt… if he hadn't wanted to get away from Spain so badly that he'd begged to go see his little brother, if he hadn't been such a cursed coward that he’d gone to hide at his house with his brother, then Germany never would have been called. Germany wouldn't have gone to their house where Spain had found them and bashed him over the head for some stupid reason that Lovino really didn't understand. Then Feliciano wouldn't have been upset and cried and… maybe Lovino should have just stayed with Spain in the first place. He shouldn't have run away. Even if Spain did want…

"Big brother?" Feliciano was at his side and tugged on his shirt sleeve, again.

"The Hell? Stop pulling on me!" Lovino jerked his arm away and moved away from Feliciano. With thoughts of Spain running round his head, he didn't want anyone to touch him. Not even Feliciano. "What are you doing getting so close? Give a person room to breathe, won't you? Jeeze! Just go and make sure that idiot of yours doesn't fall down a flight of stairs or something when he's trying to get to his bed, will you?"

Hours later, something woke Lovino from his sound sleep. He was on his side, facing away from the noise - voices, he realized after a moment. Slowly, he recognized that it was Germany's groggy voice. "Two."

"Very good," Japan quietly said. "And how many fingers am I holding up now?"

"Three."

"Correct. What's your name?"

"This is silly."

"A good guess, but no. Try again."

Sigh… "Ludwig."

"I'm so pleased that you remembered. I think you're fine." Japan paused. "Germany-san," He started, a bit hesitantly. "I put your clothes away for you. There was a star sewn to your shirt."

Germany muttered, "I have to wear it."

"Why? What is it?"

"I don't know." He made a disturbing sort of whine. "BOSS won't tell me what it's for."

"How very odd."

"It's mine." Germany's voice suddenly got louder and he shifted so much that Lovino could tell he was trying to sit up. "Don't take it! If I don’t wear it my BOSS will be angry."

"I won't." Japan's soothing voice was enough to that Germany calmed almost at once. "Your star is safe, but why does your BOSS say you have to wear it?"

Germany made a fussing sort of noise, as if he were on the very of tears.

That awful fussing of Germany's frightened Lovino. Germany wasn't the sort of person who should be crying. He was big and strong and smart.

"No. Not me. He doesn't want ME wearing it, but… I have to. Oh, Kiku." It sounded strange to hear Germany call someone by their personal name. It sounded even stranger to hear Germany so helpless. "I don't think he really understands about us. He got so mad when he saw me wearing it."

"If your BOSS doesn't like you wearing it…"

"He makes them wear it, so I have to. I tried to explain… I tried. They’re my people, too, no matter what their religion. He doesn't understand. I don't understand. I don't understand anything."

Japan reassured him, "You don't have to. We'll figure it all out when you're well. Hush, now. Try to rest. It's time for you to sleep. Germany-san? I said… ah." A loud snore from the far side of the bed confirmed that Germany had, indeed, gone back to sleep. Japan chuckled and whispered, "Good. Sleep well."

Laying still and quiet for what seemed like hours, Lovino waited. When he heard nothing but silence for a good long while, he opened his eyes. There was a dim light in the room, an oil lamp lit on the bedside table near where Japan sat in a chair. Japan seemed to be as deeply asleep as Germany and Feliciano were until Lovino started to sit up. Then, Japan's eyes flew open. They stared at each other for a moment before Japan nodded his head.

"Romano-kun. It's late. Is anything the matter?"

Lovino looked at the bed he was in. He was on the far side from where Japan sat in a chair next to the bed. Next to Lovino in the bed was Feliciano, who slept soundly on his back with one arm draped across Germany's chest and one leg over Lovino's legs. He slept like a rag doll, always had. On Feliciano's other side, Germany lay. Lovino looked back up at Japan and tried very hard not to blush. "I… Little Brother said… I thought this was a guest room."

"An understandable mistake," Japan said. "This is Germany-san's bedroom."

Lovino groaned. Of course. The last place he'd ever wanted to wake up in - Germany's bed. He wanted to blame his stupid little brother, but, honestly, he couldn't. It was his own fault. He should have known better than to trust his little brother to find him a respectable place to sleep. For that matter, it was entirely likely that Feliciano didn't think there was anything wrong with the sleeping arrangements.

Feliciano had said that he slept with Germany and Japan.

"I'm taking your spot, aren't I?" Lovino asked, glancing at Japan.

"Not at all. I can't sleep tonight, anyhow. Germany-san needs watching."

"I heard. Sounds like Spain rang his bell pretty good."

"True." Japan paused a moment. "Romano-kun, forgive me for my candor, but if I may say so, you look uncomfortable. When I brought Germany-san here, you were already asleep. I thought it kinder to let you continue sleeping rather than wake you to find another bed. I do hope that I made the correct judgment."

A bit weakly, Lovino nodded. He wasn't sure how to deal with someone like Japan. He almost sounded… respectful when he spoke to Lovino. That just wasn't possible, though. No one ever spoke to him like that.

Japan leaned his head a little to the side. "If you are uncomfortable here, I can find you another place to sleep. There are other beds. Germany-san doesn't often have visitors, but he does like to be prepared."

"I'm not much tired, anyhow. I'm just going to get up and go for a walk." Lovino paused, waiting for Japan to tell him to go back to sleep or that he wasn't to leave the house or whatever else was the rule in Germany's house.

Japan smiled softly and nodded. "Please, be careful. I can get you a flashlight if you plan to go far."

"It's... alright, then?"

"You are not a child or a prisoner. You may come or go as you please."

"Oh. Well… of course I can! And you couldn't have stopped me, anyway! Even if you did want to make me a prisoner, I'll have you know I'm a lot stronger than my little brother." As he spoke, Lovino got out of bed – a fact that made Japan blush fiercely. Lovino noticed Japan modestly looking away from him and quickly pulled on his clothes. "And if I want to leave, I'll leave. I might not be the biggest man of all, but Mister Macho there," he gestured towards Germany. "Isn't strong enough to stop a cat from leaving right now." Lovino almost made a comment about Japan being too small and delicate to even think about confronting him, but there was something about Japan that made him hold his tongue, for once. Japan was small, certainly, and he was almost fragile looking, but there was strength in his eyes. He was strong enough to take care of himself with neighbors such as China and Russia. He was strong enough to have earned Germany's respect and admiration.

He opened his mouth to say something, but froze when he heard the phone ringing. He charged in the direction of the noise. It wasn't an easy rush; the house was kept dark and he managed to stub his toe and stumble over a chair in a hall before he was stopped by a steel-like grip on his arm. He wrestled to free himself before a light flashed on and he saw that it was Japan who held his arm.

"Germany-san keeps his telephone in his office. Just there." He handed Lovino the flashlight he held and gave a soft smile. "If it's not for you, please take a message. I feel certain Germany-san will be well enough to call them back in the morning."

Awkwardly, Lovino took the flashlight. "Thank you."

"Not at all. Have a pleasant walk." Japan left him, then, and apparently didn't need a light to find his way back to Germany's bedroom.

The phone rang and, with the flashlight, Lovino made his way into Germany's office without any more difficulty. The telephone, sitting on Germany's crowded desk, rang again, insistently, and Lovino snatched up the receiver. "Spain?"

There was silence on the other end.

"Spain? Is that you? Look, are… are you angry? It was your own fault, damn it! You shouldn't be angry at me!"

Again, silence.

Lovino felt his stomach sink. He couldn't remember any time when Spain had been so angry that he wouldn't talk. Lovino set the flashlight down on the desk and he clutched the telephone's receiver with both hands, as if that could give him more connection to Spain. "Please…"

"What is Spain's fault? What did he do to you, little Italy?"

The blood drained from Lovino's face and he nearly fainted when he recognized the voice.

"Little Italy? Are you alright?"

"Fine!" It came out as more of a bark than Lovino had intended and he slapped a hand over his mouth, even though it was too late to take it back. In a slightly more controlled voice, he said, "Fine. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

"I think something must be wrong, little Italy. You don't sound at all happy." The caller chuckled, pleasantly. "I didn't expect to have you answer at Germany's house. Did you run away from Spain? Are you a naughty little nation?"

Flushing at the words, Lovino snapped, "I'm not! I'm just… visiting. What do you want, anyway?"

"Ah! Such poor manners. That will have to be corrected. Don't worry; I'm very good at teaching manners."

Frightened, and feeling more than a little ill, Lovino said, "I… I'm sorry, Russia."

Again, that amused laugh. "Think nothing of it. I know how to deal with poor manners."

Lovino started to tremble. He nearly dropped the telephone.

"Little Italy, as much as I do enjoy talking to you, I would like to speak with Germany. Would he be at home?"

To tell Russia – of all people! – that Germany was currently weak and injured, was unthinkable. And lying to Russia? He'd be furious and Lovino wasn't nearly strong enough to stand up to Russia - hardly anyone was. But Germany had been injured because of Lovino and he was always taking care of Feliciano. "He's working, Russia. He can't come to the telephone." For good measure he added, "Sorry."

"I see. Please, tell him that I will call him another time. My BOSS wishes that he and I becoming friends. Now that you're living at his house with your little brother, I think we should all be friends. Your house is very warm, I have heard, and you are so clever at growing things." Russia hesitated a moment before he shyly asked, "Do you think you could grow sunflowers? Yes, I think you could. We should all be friends. Doesn't that sound like fun?" Without waiting for an answer, Russia said good-bye and hung up.

Horrified, Lovino stared at the receiver for a long moment before he hung up.

He'd seen Russia, once.

"You stay in your room," Spain had said, uncharacteristically sternly. "I don't want to see even your toe out of your room until I tell you that it's safe."

"Safe from what?" Lovino sprawled on the large bed Spain had given to him, long ago. He was very small, just a child, and had to look up at Spain when he spoke. "What's going on?  
"We're having a visitor and I don't want him to meet you."

Immediately insulted, Lovino sat up with wide eyes. "Why not? You embarrassed by me or something?"

"Of course not." Spain looked at his reflection in the mirror and ran both hands through his dark hair. "You need to trust me on this, Romano. Please? Just stay here."

"Is your visitor dangerous?"

"He's…" Spain hesitated, obviously trying to think of an appropriate word. "He's big. You just stay here and there won't be any trouble."

He hated it when Spain got like that… all serious. It made him nervous. Spain wasn't acting like he was supposed to. He was supposed to be confidant and he was supposed to be strong. He wasn't supposed to fidget or fuss with the cuffs of his shirt as if he were nervous. Spain wasn't supposed to be scared of anything.

So when Spain went out to meet his guest, Lovino did, for a time, stay in his room as he'd been told. However, as time rolled on, curiosity got the better of him. He crept out of his room and along the hall that led to the sitting room where Spain customarily took his guests to discuss business. More often than not, Lovino had been allowed to be present. He'd met France and Prussia, of course, along with a few of the other friendlier nations. The one who stood in the sitting room with Spain, however, Loivno had never met before. He was immense. He was tall and broad with a long, pale coat and hair so blonde that it was almost white. Lovino stayed where he was, peering around the corner of the doorjamb, for a while and listened to their conversation until the visitor turned and spotted him.

The visitor smiled broadly. "Ah! This must be one of the little Italy's I've been hearing about."

Spain glared at Lovino and snapped, "Go to your room!"

Later, after Russia had gone home, Spain came to Lovino, cross but not violent. He'd never hit Lovino, never once even raised his hand to Lovino. "He's dangerous, understand?" He sat on the edge of Lovino's bed and spent a good long while telling Lovino exactly why he should never have anything to do with Russia. By the time he left Lovino, it was late and time for bed. Lovino thought he'd never be able to fall asleep with thoughts of the Russia Monster prowling around in his imagination. Eventually, he did sleep, but when he did, he had a nightmare of the Russia Monster. He'd been horrified to wake up and find that he'd wet the bed. Oh! Hadn't Spain laughed!

Lovino was startled out of his memory when a low whine caught his attention. Germany's three dogs sat before him, watching him expectantly. He went very still. He didn't like dogs. They smelled funny and were too big. Germany's dogs seemed especially large and he was sure that they had big teeth. He put his arms around himself. "Well? What do you want?"

Of course, the dogs did nothing but stare back at him.

"What are you staring at?" There was something very familiar about those big, warm eyes. In fact, those eyes looked vaguely like Feliciano's when he wanted something. "And what he always wants most is to eat."

It wasn't too hard to find the kitchen and the dogs all followed him silently. There, near the front door, he found six metal bowls on the floor and all of them were empty. After a quick search of the cupboards Lovino found dog food, which the dogs seemed grateful for. He also gave them clean water and watched while they cleaned the bowls.

That done, he went to the front door and looked out. Germany's car stood where they'd left it in the driveway. Though morning was drawing close, the only light came from the full, bright moon and the scattering of stars across the sky, like shining freckles on the face of the night. There were houses in the distance, dark silhouettes against the night. Austria and Hungary, he guessed. Or maybe Prussia. He was pretty sure that Switzerland and that cute little sister of his lived close by, too.  
Somewhere, far away, was Spain's house. Home.

The pain in his chest struck so hard that he was almost sick from it.

If there was one thing that had always managed to bring Lovino peace, it was gardening. He left the dogs in the kitchen and went out to Germany's front garden. It was a pitiful sight, even at night. During the day, it must have been truly sad. He needed to do something with his hands. Right next to the front door, lined up in front of the house, were rose bushes. Around the roses, long weeds had grown up. It was untidy and made Lovino's fingers itch. He set the flashlight down on the ground, then got on his knees and started to pluck the weeds out.

Time passed, but Lovino wasn't paying much attention. He was too eager to let all his worries and fears slide away in favor of doing something productive. After a time, he was pulled from his mindless task when a warm body pressed against his side, but it was only one of Germany's dogs – the female one. He didn't know much about dogs, but the one leaning against him didn't seem aggressive.

"Not gonna bite, are you?"

The dog opened her mouth in a sort of grin and let her long tongue flop out. She tail wagged gently.

"What did Feliciano say you were called? Aster? Yes. That was it. Nice dog?" He reached out a hand and bit his lip when he saw that he was shaking. Aster didn't seem to care about his nerves and actually leaned forward a little to rub her muzzle against his hand. Slowly, Lovino smiled. "Ah! You are nice. And little brother was right; you are a pretty dog." Again, he didn't know much about dogs, much less how to rate one's beauty, but she was friendly and, to him, that was more than enough to make her a fine looking dog.

Aster made herself at ease with him, laying down serenely in the grass while Lovino turned back to his task. The flashlight began to dim, its battery slowly dying as the night wore on. He became so focused that he nearly lost sense of anything else around him.

"I wish I could do that, big brother."

Lovino started at Feliciano's voice and turned to see his little brother, crouched no more than a yard from him with a big, dopey smile on his face. "What? Do what?"

"Make things grow, like you can."

"It's only gardening, you twit. Anyone can do it." Still, Lovino couldn't help but flush at such a rare compliment. "Why are you awake, anyway?"

"I woke up to check on Germany and you were gone. I was worried so Japan said I might check around for you. And here you are making pretty things grow. And I don't think just anyone can do what you can do. After all, Germany is the smartest person I know and look what he did to his garden." Feliciano gestured around to the rather cheerless garden. "And I tried once and it didn't turn out very well. I wanted to give Germany something nice for Christmas and since his garden is sort of lonely looking, I thought I'd get him something to put in it. It started to grow, but it died before I could give it to him." Feliciano settled himself on the ground beside Aster as he spoke and petted the dog gently. "It was going to be a daisy. That's all I wanted to give him and I couldn't even do that."

"That wasn't you, fool. It was Christmas, of course they don't grow in the winter." He glanced at Feliciano. "You should go back to bed. If Germany wakes up and you're not there, he'll worry."

Feliciano looked up towards where Lovino knew Germany's bedroom was. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course." Lovino rolled his eyes and looked back at his weeding. "Who you gonna trust if not your big brother? Go back to bed." How was it possible that Germany, for all his intelligence, and Feliciano, for all of his heart, couldn't see what was right in front of their noses?

"Come with me?"

"Later. I want to finish." Lovino looked up at the sky and he could feel the coming storm. "It's going to rain and I want this finished before I'm out here kneeling in the mud."

"How do you always know when it's going to rain?"

"The same way I know when to plant and when to harvest. I just do. Now, I know it's time for you to sleep. Go on. I won't be long."

Feliciano, as tactile as ever, leaned against Lovino's back. "I wish we'd known each other when we were young. I think you'd have been telling me when it was bedtime then, too."

"Oh, whatever. Just go."

Feliciano left, then, and Lovino was, again, alone in the garden with Aster. He began to dig furiously at the weeds, determined to get the last of them out before the flashlight died. His fingernails became caked with soil and his knees began to hurt, but on he went, working his way down the long bed, unheeding of the thorns that scraped his fingers or anything else until he reached the end of the bed. He sat back on his haunches, but he couldn't really see much of what he'd done. The flashlight had gone dark. He could only just see Aster and that, he realized, was because Feliciano had left the front hall's light on and left the front door open.

The work was done and he knew he couldn't see well enough to do anything else, anyhow. Exhausted, but not wanting to go back up and crawl into Germany's bed, Lovino settled himself down next to Aster by the front door. He inched himself back until he sat between two of the rose bushes. Aster crept up to lay with him and, before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep.

Someone was holding him – carrying him.

Someone had gathered him up in their arms, arms that felt impossibly strong, like warm iron instead of muscle. Those arms held him carefully and he thought that, perhaps, he might have heard the steady thump of a heartbeat. None of that was enough to make him fully wake. He let his head rest against the warmth of the person carrying him.  
But then he was in bed and tucked in and he knew he'd made a mistake. The person carrying him wasn't been a stranger, but Spain. Spain had always tucked him in as a child. If he woke up enough to open his eyes, Spain would sing to him to get him to go back to sleep. He might even get his guitar to play for Lovino like he’d done when Lovino had been a child. That thought drifted around Lovino's still mind until it woke a disturbing thought. The person who'd tucked him in couldn't have been Spain. He'd run away from Spain.

There was a warm body in the bed next to him. He felt blindly around with his hand, he found the other person's. It was a small, almost delicate hand. Lovino cracked one eye open and smiled. Feliciano. He inched a little closer and let himself fall asleep.

And then he dreamt…

Lovino was small, again, little more than a baby. It didn't seem at all odd that Grandpa Rome stood in the field, smiling as benignly as ever. He never seemed to stop smiling. Even when the worst came to pass, he still smiled, seeing the good in the world and laughing away all the bad. He was just as Lovino remembered – tall and handsome with that lightly curling hair. He was charming and wise and so very, very strong. He was also the person Lovino admired most. He wanted to be just like Grandpa Rome.

"Grandpa?"

Grandpa Rome didn't even look at Lovino. Maybe he hadn't heard. Lovino crept a little closer and raised his voice as much as he could. "Grandpa?"

Still, Grandpa Rome stared out at the field with a fond smile.

Curious, Lovino followed Grandpa Rome's gaze and, yes, there was Feliciano, dancing not too far away. He was just as small as Lovino and still a little awkward and chubby - an adorable baby.

"You'll be great one day, Italy. My cute grandson, you'll be the envy of the world." Grandpa Rome beamed as he said it. "Everyone will want you."

"Will everyone want me, too, Grandpa Rome?" Lovino didn't like that idea much. He liked being left alone. He liked the quiet and peace and he'd seen enough of other nations to think that they didn't much care for anything but war and their own greed. When he didn't get an answer to his question, Lovino looked up at his grandpa, but Grandpa Rome still wasn't looking at him. Lovino reached up to grab the edge of Grandpa Rome's toga, but Grandpa Rome suddenly started walking away.

As if his feet were sunk in honey, Lovino couldn't move. He couldn't follow. "Wait for me!" Lovino cried out. "Grandpa, wait for me!"

But Grandpa Rome didn't so much as turn to look at him. He scooped Feliciano easily up into his arms and continued walking, far across the field and into a thick mist beyond.  
Alone, Lovino just stood there. He waited, faithfully believing that his beloved grandpa would return with his dear little brother.

No one came back.

Then there was fighting. The clash of swords and the sharp sound of arrows flying. Dust filled the air along with yelling and the awful screams of pain and fury. Terrified, Lovino crouched down and slapped his hands over his ears, as if he could protect himself by simply not hearing. He could smell the blood of the wounded and when someone fell, it felt as if the earth shook under his feet. He couldn't help crying. The fear was overwhelming, nearly paralyzing. Where was Grandpa Rome? He was supposed to protect them! Where was Feliciano?

"You come with me now." A hand landed on Lovino's shoulder, but it wasn't Grandpa Rome's so he was too afraid to look up. "The battle's over. I get to take you home."

Lovino shook his head, wildly. "Don't wanna!"

"No choice, little one. Austria gave you to me. It's time to go home."

And then, he was grown.

No longer the pudgy baby, he was taller and whip thin. The familiar, uncomfortable coil of anger had settled in his belly. It lightened when he saw, though a crowd of strangers, Feliciano. His little brother was dancing, again. Feliciano was graceful and elegant as he danced; his long arms and legs moved with ease. The broad smile on his face showed how very happy he was, lost within his dance.

The crowd around Feliciano was filled with familiar faces. There was Austria and Hungary looking so proud of the boy they'd raised. Why hadn't they kept Lovino? He knew he wasn't as good at Feliciano, but he would have tried. Japan in all of his usual sophistication stood nearby with a serene smile. Next to him, Germany, with his arms crossed over his chest, watched the joyous dance. He didn't smile, as Japan did, but there was a soft spark of warmth in his eyes as he watched Feliciano.

None of them were the one Lovino was looking for. He was tired, very suddenly. He'd been looking, waiting for so long. He walked around the crowd surrounding Feliciano's dance area twice before he saw Grandpa Rome, standing off to the side. He was, as he always seemed to be doing, watching Feliciano with such a proud smile.

"Grandpa Rome," Lovino thought desperately for something to say, something that would make Grandpa Rome turn that proud smile on him. "I'm getting stronger. I've made powerful friends since you left. And my garden… you'd like my garden. It's always healthy and bright and my flowers are the most beautiful in the world." He inched a little closer to his grandpa. "I'm doing good taking care of Feliciano, too. When that big lug, Germany, started hanging around, I was just all over them. I didn't let him off for a minute… not until I realized that Germany was an idiot who didn't have a clue about why Feliciano kept sneaking into his bed. And I take care of Spain, too. He can't take care of himself a bit and he trusts me to look after his house when he's gone. And…" He got a little eager, caught up in his storytelling, and was bold enough to take hold of Grandpa Rome's arm. "And Germany thinks so much of me! When he thought Feliciano and I were in trouble, he came running to help! And Japan! You should hear how polite and respectful he is when he talks to me! And - "

"Do stop shouting, Romano." Grandpa Rome kept smiling, but didn't bother to even look at Lovino. "Go back to your garden."

"But… Grandpa…"

"You aren't stronger, just a little bigger. Your gardens? They're only plants; anyone can farm – even a foul-tempered brat. And your brother doesn't need you. When has he ever needed you?" Grandpa Rome began to turn, very slowly, and Lovino was suddenly afraid of what he'd been wishing for. He didn't want his grandpa to look at him. He didn't want those ancient eyes focused on him. He hunched his shoulders and cringed away. "Spain? You take care of Spain? Such an arrogant lie. And to me! Without him you would be nothing. Spain doesn't trust you, he just knows you're too weak and cowardly to ever run from him."

That wasn't right. "I did. I left him with little brother and Germany."

"No. Germany stole you; you just didn't bother to fight back." Grandpa Rome took a step towards Lovino. "How can you look so much like my sweet Feliciano, but have none of his cuteness? None of his good-nature. Such a useless child."

It hurt. Lovino cried out and jerked away as if Grandpa Rome had struck him. "Please…"

"If only you'd made something out of yourself. Still, I never did expect much from you."

Then he was fighting. There were no faces or uniforms or weapons, but he was fighting. They wanted him. Everyone wanted to get hold of him. But he was scared – he was always scared! – and he didn't want to go with them. He fought as hard as he could, swinging his fists in desperation, but the attackers were never where he thought they'd be. He couldn't hit them and even when he started to openly cry they kept coming at him. He screamed, but there was no Spain to come running to his rescue. There was no one and the attackers were getting too close and he couldn't breathe and…

A soft voice whispered to him.

A gentle hand held his.

The attackers faded into nothing and he was alone. The sun came out and he was safe, alone in his garden.

The fear was entirely gone. He wasn't hurt at all. Somewhere, not too far off, he could hear people he loved. Safe and reassured, Lovino let himself sink to the ground. He lay back with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

The peaceful dream ended only when he woke the next morning.

 

To be continued…


	5. The Ring

Chapter 5: The Ring

With Japan's help, the paperwork didn't take nearly as long to finish as Germany had feared. When the daily batch of work arrived by currier, they set to work at once. At first, Germany had to admit, he was more than a little uncomfortable with the helping hand Japan offered. He'd never had anyone work with him on his paperwork. Even his brother didn't touch Germany's paperwork. Feliciano would sometimes keep him company while he worked, insisting that Germany just couldn't spend so much of his time in such a quiet, stuffy room, but he would read on the other side of Germany's desk or he'd set up his easel in the corner and paint. Germany had never had another person actually work with him at his desk, quietly and efficiently filling out forms and other paperwork. Japan managed to speed up the chore enough that the work that normally took several hours was cut down to only two.

When it was done, Germany stretched his back and almost smiled. "You're a good person to work with," he told Japan. "I will repay the favor, one day."

Modest as ever, Japan looked away and tried to hide his smile. "That's very kind of you, Germany-san, but there is really no need. Do you think the brothers have had any trouble with their chores?"

Germany turned in his seat and looked out the window of his office. "They seem fine." Feliciano was playing with Berlitz and Blackie while Lovino was using a pair of garden clippers to trim some of the overgrown shrubbery in Germany's garden. "Hungary should be here shortly and then we'll leave." He looked at the remaining papers on his desk. "The rest of this can be finished at your house."

"Germany-san, perhaps it can wait until after our vacation and…"

"No," Germany interrupted. "I know you mean well, but this needs to be finished and I want to be away from here before Spain decides to push his luck." He frowned at his desk and set his pen down. "Japan, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Every time I have seen them together, Spain has acted the part of a doting … something… to Lovino. He has proclaimed many times how he adores Lovino and thinks him attractive." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if what he were about to say was a secret. "I think he has hurt Lovino."

Though Japan didn't wear his emotions as openly as most people, if one knew how to look he did have them. His eyes did narrow a bit. He looked out the window at Lovino. The disapproval was clear to Germany. "It is dishonorable to hurt someone in your care; someone who is unable to defend themselves. What evidence do you have that Lovino was hurt?"

"That's just it – I can't say for certain that he was. I never saw any sign of injury and he hasn't accused Spain of anything, but I have been noticing some things. Lovino always seems to be angry and I think that can't be right. Always angry. It must be very tiring. He doesn't like anyone – not even his brother – to touch him. When Spain confronted him back at Italy's house, he kept his arms wrapped around himself, like he was trying to protect himself. Spain said that he would take Feliciano with them back to his house and Lovino became almost desperate to prevent that. It's clear that he loves his brother, so why would he want to deliberately keep Feliciano away? But…" He gave Japan a hopeful look. "Perhaps I am wrong?"

Japan looked back up at the ceiling, thinking. "Perhaps. Have you spoken with him?"

"With Spain? I don't think Spain will just tell me if he's hurting Lovino."

"Forgive me, I was unclear. What I meant to say was, have you spoken with Lovino? Asked him if Spain was hurting him?"

"He told me that Spain didn't try to invade his vital regions, but I have begun to suspect that Lovino might have," Germany hesitated, loath to even suggest the vile notion that had begun to take shape when Lovino had had his nightmare. "I think he may have fibbed."

"Really?"

"I know!" Germany help up a hand, certain that Japan would reprimand him for saying such a terrible thing about not only an ally, but about one of the defenseless Italy brothers. "You don't have to say anything. It's not likely that Lovino would lie; he's just as guiltless as Feliciano, after all. And I know how despicable it is for me to even think such things about an ally, but there are times that I can't help but think he's hiding something. And he's hiding it from me! Does he think I can't protect him?"

Japan was quiet for a moment. "I do not think that he would doubt your strength. You told me that he has already seen that you willing to go barehanded against Spain's ax in order to defend him. I think that it seems more likely that he would keep secrets because he is afraid. We should consider that he has not been with us long. If he is being hurt by someone that he has relied upon for centuries for protection, then trust must be an incredibly difficult for him."

Germany sighed. Of course. He should have thought of that. "He is afraid of me." Almost everyone was afraid of him. He didn't really understand why, but they were. It was only natural that Lovino would be, too. "Am I scary?" He didn't like how small his voice sounded. "Do I scare you, Japan?"

"No," Japan reassured him, quickly. "I am very comfortable with you. But we must bear in mind that Romano-kun was reluctant to even trust Feliciano's judgment when he called you to help untangle their hair. If he has a hard time trusting someone as innocent as Feliciano – his own brother – then someone like you, who is so much bigger and stronger than he is must seem a touch… well… intimidating."

Germany scowled at his lap. "I am not trying to scare him."

"Of course you're not. However, I think that the best thing we can do is to show him that we are all allies. We will make sure that he feels safe with us. Also, you did mention that he is defenseless, even in his own home."

"They didn't even have locks on their doors when I went to their home."

"Perhaps we can change that." Japan gave one of his soft smiles. "You were planning to include him in the training, I presume? Alongside Feliciano and myself? That will be an excellent start. He has quite a bit of energy; I've noticed that in the short time I've been here. A productive way to expend his energy, like training, may do his temperament some good."

"If he is frightened, then learning to defend himself will probably go a long way towards easing that fear.” Germany mused aloud. “If it is the fear that is making him have temper tantrums, then perhaps he'll stop having them so often. With luck, I may make it through this war with my sanity intact." He turned in his chair to look out of the window behind him. He saw, on the front lawn, Lovino carefully watering the plants while Feliciano ran to the front gate and started waving wildly to a familiar car that made its way towards the house. "I have been meaning to ask you something. The other day, when I called you at your house and asked you for some advice about Italy, you hinted that you'd noticed something. What was it that you noticed?"

Japan blushed. Not just a slight flush of his cheeks, but his whole face turned bright red. His eyes widened, as if he'd never expected the question. The pen he'd held snapped in half as he tightened his grip on it.

"Was that a bad question?"

With a long, slow inhalation, Japan seemed to calm himself. "No. Just… I am afraid that I let my suspicions get the better of me. When you said you wanted advice about 'Italy' I made the presumption that you meant Veneziano-kun. I had noticed a growing bond between yourself and Veneziano-kun." Japan stood and walked around the desk until he was standing next to Germany. Having to look up at Japan was an odd feeling. "I know what happened at the restaurant."

"What?" Germany felt himself starting to blush. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs. He hadn't thought anyone would know about that. "How?"

"The night you proposed to Veneziano-kun, I happened to go to that same restaurant; the waiters were very chatty. Later, I found Veneziano-kun wandering about rather aimlessly. He was confused and worried that he'd hurt you because you ran off so fast, but he didn't want to tell me why you ran from him. He said that he wanted to think about it, a little. And then I noticed this." He put his palm flat against Germany's chest, right over the tomato ring Germany wore under his shirt on a chain. "I saw the chain one day when we were training and you were in just your undershirt. And I have seen how affectionate Veneziano-kun is with you. It wasn't hard to make certain logical guesses."

"He's affectionate with everyone." Germany looked away from Japan, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. He wished he'd never asked. "I'm not special."

Japan chuckled and took his hand off of Germany's chest. "You kept the ring."

What could Germany say to that? He couldn't bring himself to get rid of the ring, even though he knew it did him no good. He still remembered the day he'd bought it. The realization of what he felt for Feliciano had hit him like a lightning bolt. It had left him staggering and speechless. Germany had never been one for procrastinating. He'd gone out that day to buy a ring for Feliciano, a symbol for the bond they shared and the deepening of a relationship he just knew would happen. As he'd watched the jeweler create the tomato shaped ring, Germany hadn’t any doubt at all that Feliciano would accept it. They got on well and had little trouble living together. Why shouldn't they formalize the arrangement? Why not show off to everyone how they thought of each other? But Feliciano…

"Germany," Japan interrupted Germany's thoughts. "Veneziano-kun is very affectionate towards the people he cares for, but he is different with you. Have you spoken to him about the ring since that day in the restaurant?"

It was at just that moment that Feliciano burst through the door with a grand smile lighting up his face. "Germany! Miss Hungary is here!" Feliciano bound across the room. He stopped to give Japan a warm embrace and then, without any apparent thought or self-consciousness, he sat on Germany's lap and threw his arms around Germany's neck. "It was so busy today that we didn't get our 'good morning' hug." He pulled Germany close and rested his head on Germany's shoulder. "And now a 'good morning' kiss!" He kissed Germany on both cheeks, then settled back to look at him. "How come you're all red, Germany? Are you sick?"

Whatever it was about Feliciano that made Germany feel so awkward and weak, he didn't know. Feliciano certainly wasn't very bright and he was about as strong as an apathetic kitten. He couldn't follow orders and had no trouble with blurting anything that drifted across his mind even if it were embarrassing or hurtful. He was an unmitigated coward. He'd turn on anyone if it meant saving his own hide. And yet…

Those soft eyes stared into his. "Germany?" Feliciano put a hand on Germany's chest, right where Japan had, right on top of the tomato ring. "Are you alright?"

And yet, Feliciano could sing so sweetly. His smile could make any trouble lessen. Germany turned his face away from Feliciano. "I just… you said Hungary is here?"

Feliciano nodded, eagerly. "She's talking to big brother now. I'll go get her." He slipped off of Germany's lap and leaned down for another quick kiss. "I'm so happy! It's going to be great now that everyone's here together. Oh, Germany, you're the best!"

Japan smiled at Germany after Feliciano had gone. If it had been anyone else, Germany would have called Japan's smile a smirk. "So, you still think you mean nothing to Veneziano-kun?"

"That display only proves my point." Germany said, straightening his desk that didn't need straightening. He put the left-over paperwork into his attaché case. "He hugged us both."

Japan sighed. "Did you notice that he didn't kiss me? Or sit on my lap?"

"The kissing is part of his culture," Germany waved a dismissive hand. "He knows that you aren't fond of overly affectionate touching. He's just being kind to you."

"Germany-san, you can't just - "

Japan broke off whatever he was about to say when the office door was flung open and Hungary strode in. "Good morning, Germany, dear. Hello, Japan. It's been quite a while." She gave Japan a polite bow then turned back to Germany and demanded, "What happened to your head?"

Germany ignored the question. "Feliciano, where are your socks?" He frowned at pointed at Feliciano's feet. "We went over this, remember? Put your socks on before your shoes."

Feliciano looked down at his feet, and then laughed when he pulled his trousers up to show that he was wearing his shoes with no socks. "I forgot! Hey, but aren't you proud that I remembered my trousers?"

"Very. Now, go find some socks and put them on. Can you do up your shoe laces without me?"

"I'll help him," Lovino burst out. He took Feliciano's arm and hauled him out of the room.

Hungary was both beautiful and confident; she was one of the strongest people that Germany knew. It was for that reason that he cringed when she didn't so much as look away from him when Feliciano and Lovino left the room.

Japan, always so sensitive to mood, gave both Germany and Hungary a bow. "I think I will go double-check that everything is ready for our trip. Hungary-san, thank you for helping. We all appreciate your efforts."

"It's no problem. Keep an eye on this one," she jerked a thumb at Germany, "for me, will you? He obviously hasn't learned to take care of himself, yet."

"Now, just wait - "

"No!" Hungary rounded on Germany and slapped both hands down on his desk. "You wait! Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

Germany swallowed hard. He’d known she wouldn't like to see the bandage, but he hadn't thought she'd take it quite so poorly. "It's nothing."

Ever wise, Japan chose that moment to slip out of the room.

"Nothing?" Hungary's voice rose and she fairly stomped around the desk until she stood behind him and started to unwrap the bandage around his head. "You let me be the judge of that, young man!"

Though she was small, she didn't fear him. He wasn't entirely certain why, but when he'd once asked why she had no fear of him, she'd told him, with a giggle, "I remember wiping your runny nose when you were a child and had a cold; it’s hard to be afraid after that.”

It occurred to him, very briefly, that he didn't have to just sit still for the examination. He could have run. But she was tenacious and would have found him. As for fighting… he wasn't entirely certain that she wouldn't beat him into the ground. So he did the only logical thing he could think of – he sat still and waited. He was quiet when she muttered and growled to herself and only hesitated a moment when she demanded to know who'd attacked him from behind. She listened to the whole account as she re-bandaged him and didn't speak until he'd finished his story with waking up in his own home.

Lightly, Hungary slapped German's upper arm. "You were taught better than that. If you're attacked, the first thing you do is call for your allies. I didn't hear a word from you and Roderich would have told me if he knew you were in trouble. And your brother? Where was Prussia during all of this? I didn't hear from him, so I know you didn't call for him. He would have made enough noise about any fight that even Australia would have heard. You stubborn twit. What on earth do you think allies are for?"

"There was no need to get everyone in an uproar." He turned to turn around to look at her and took her hands, hoping that it would calm her. "It was over within seconds, honestly. It turned out well enough."

Hungary yanked her small hands away from Germany's. Her expression was stormy. "'Well enough?' It turned out 'well enough'? You have a wound back there that still looks raw! It should have healed by now and you're telling me that things are 'well enough'? Oh!" She shook her finger at him and, somehow, he was ashamed. "I ought to…! If Roderich were here, you'd get the sharp edge of his tongue, be sure of that!" Despite her hard words, Hungary's hands were gentle when she took his face in her hands and looked him square in the eye. "And why is it still open, anyhow? You're strong enough to have healed by now unless Spain knocked your head half off. What else is going on with you?"

There was something, he was sure of it. "I – I don't know."

"Don't know? What do you mean you don't know? Little boy, if you're hiding things from me…"

Germany chuckled. "I'm not. How could I even think about it? The last time I tried to lie to you, I couldn't sit for a week."

"Served you right," she sniffed. "Trying to fib to Auntie Hungary? You could be such a naughty little boy."

"That is true. But I'm not keeping anything from you now." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I can feel that something isn't right, but I couldn't tell you what. Japan noticed it, too. I should have healed by now. I've taken far worse injuries and healed much faster. And there's this," he held out his arm and pulled up his shirtsleeve. The irritable spot that he couldn't stop rubbing before had turned darker. "It's been appearing slowly – almost like it's growing."

Hungary ran the tips of her fingers over the spot. "What is it?"

"I don't know. I feel like I don't know anything anymore. Hungary, while you're house sitting you'll tell me if anything odd happens, won't you? Call me at Japan's house?"

"Odd in what way?"

Germany scowled at his shoes. "I just have a bad feeling." He put a hand to his chest, rubbing the place just over his heart. "My people… there's something very wrong."

"Your BOSS isn't telling you anything?"

"It shouldn't be necessary." Germany scowled with frustration. It had been bothering him for a good long while. "I should know! We all know how our people are – that's how it works - but… I don't know. My BOSS keeps telling me things and I get confused when I listen to him. The things he says, they just don't make sense. I mean, it sounds good and logical when I'm talking with him, but after I leave and I start to think about things… it's not that I distrust him, but… I don't know."

The silence in the office was awful. Hungary released Germany and stepped away. "Do you trust your BOSS?"

"Of course." But there was a faint, lingering doubt.

Hungary shook her head. "I wish I had an answer for you. But, yes, I'll keep an eye on things and I'll call you if anything happens." Then she smiled and all was right with the world. "It's about time you decided to take a vacation, you know. I was starting to worry that you'd give yourself a stroke with how much you focus on work. How long will you be gone?"

"Just a couple of days, I think. We need some time to work on team building. For Lovino's sake, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I understand. I hope you have a good time. Make sure you relax a bit." She gave Germany a cheery wink. "Might not be a bad idea to give Japan and Romano-kun some time alone, let them strengthen their bond. Then you could always, oh, I don't know - take Feliciano out walking, maybe. I'm sure he'd find the countryside a great inspiration for his painting. Let him relax a bit, too. You two could maybe take a lunch out and have a picnic."

It sounded like time wasting to Germany. "I suppose it might be good for his moral and Lovino does need to get to know Japan."

"Yes," Hungary agreed. "It'll be good for everyone. Good for you, too."

"Me? I'm fine."

"Of course you are. Germany, my little man, do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Don't hide that ring, anymore."

Germany stiffened. He could feel the blush starting to creep up his neck, again. How many people knew about it?

Gently and slowly, as if she were reaching out to pet a wild animal, Hungary slipped her fingers under the collar of Germany's shirt and pulled out of the steel chain he wore. She kept pulling until the tomato ring came out and dangled between them. "Ludwig, a lot of people are worried about you. You are not a person to do anything without a great deal of thought. Even when you were a child, I never once saw you do anything recklessly. You have a reason and a plan for everything you do. Feliciano could make anyone lose their heart, don't you think? He has more love bottled up inside him than anyone I know and he is so happy to share that love. He's a good-looking young man and he has a way of making every day, no matter how dark, look just a little brighter. Who wouldn't love him?"

With a loud clearing of his voice, Germany stepped away from Hungary. The tomato ring fell down onto his chest. "Who told you such things?"

"No one needed to. You wear your heart on your sleeve. I don't think you could hide your emotions for the sake of your own life."

"And the ring? Who told you about that?"

"Despite how we argue, your brother is a dear friend of mine. He's worried about you, too. He saw the ring more than once."

Germany put his hands over his face. "It was just a misunderstanding. There's nothing to worry about. I can still do my work and protect who needs to be protected."

"I know you can. I just wish you'd let the people who care for you protect you."

"I don't need protecting."

She seemed to find something funny about that. "Will you do it? Wear the ring on the outside of your shirt?"

He had said he'd do anything for her. "It won't change anything."

"Then it will do no harm. Please?"

Reluctantly, and certain that he was going to get laughed at by Lovino or Gilbert or, even worse, Feliciano, Germany nodded.

"Thank you. Now, I think I've held you up enough. Be careful." She fondly carded her fingers through his hair. It was more contact than he was usually comfortable with, but he'd known her for so long that it seemed wrong to deny her anything. "You know, I was just thinking of when you were a child. There was this time when I was on a ladder, trying to get something from the top shelf in the kitchen. It was just a little out of reach. You came along and scolded me for, and I quote, "fooling around on ladders". Then you pulled Roderich out of his music room and told him off for not helping because he was taller and should be helping more. You were such a little thing, back then - all elbows and knees and bright blue eyes. Such an adorable little boy. And just looked at you now!" She stepped back and smiled at him, even though she sounded as if she might cry. "All grown up and still trying to take care of everyone. You must remember to take care of yourself, too. I think that's the only rule you ever forget."

"I do take care of myself. But there are other, more important, things to deal with."

"And that attitude is why I'm worried. Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, Ludwig, even if that means allowing someone else to take care of you."

He'd always found it hard to deny her anything. Perhaps that was because she was one of his first memories.

Prussia had carried him off the battlefield. There was smoke in the air that burned his throat and he could smell blood and hear the moans and cries of the wounded and dying. There were screams, too. Grown men were crying in the mud and one man, his eyes empty of all life, sat motionless beside a corpse. Tears ran freely down his face, but he didn't say a word or even look up when Prussia walked by. Hungary was with them, then. She petted Germany's hair and kissed his forehead. Prussia told Hungary, "His name is Germany." And Hungary, with soot smeared across one cheek and a cut over one eye, smiled down at him.

So he sighed and knew she worried for nothing, but for her peace of mind he said, "I will be very careful. Please, call me if there is any trouble with the dogs." He glanced over her shoulder and smiled fondly at where Aster quietly stood by the office door. "And if there's any change in Aster's condition."

She giggled, then, her heavy mood lifted. "Of course. Feliciano is so excited. He came running right over after you told him. Wanted to know if I had any baby clothes."

Germany rolled his eyes. "I will try to explain it to him."

"Did you tell Lovino, yet?"

"No. There hasn't been much time. It seems like it's one drama after another."

"And you're the star of this performance. Good luck, my little boy. Please, have fun visiting Japan and take what time you need. I don't mind staying here a few days longer if you need me to."

"Two days," Germany replied. He looked down at Hungary and hoped she was reassured by the fact that he seemed as strong as ever. "We are in the middle of a war and we can't afford much more than two days. Really, if I didn't think it so necessary, I wouldn't take even that much time. Oh, Feliciano had a cat here. He generally takes care of himself and the dogs don't bother him. He's not picky about food; he eats the dog's food and drinks from their water dishes, so he won't be any extra work."

Outside, they found the other three ready and waiting to go. Hungary thanked Japan for looking after everyone and hugged Feliciano and told him to behave himself. When she got to Lovino, though, and tried to do the same, he jumped away from her outstretched arms. He didn't look at her, but glared blackly at his feet.

"You think you can just come around and manhandle me? Get the Hell away."

"Lovino!" Germany snapped. "That's no way to talk to Hungary!"

"I'll talk whatever way I damned well please! I don't need her touching me! Don't even want her near me!" Lovino still didn't look at Hungary. He muttered to himself in Italian before sliding himself behind Feliciano, as if hiding behind him. "Go on back to your piano man. Don't need you. Either of you. Never did."

Upset at the argument, Feliciano urged Lovino to the other side of the car where he spoke to him with gentle words and a light touch on the arm.

Embarrassed by his guest's behavior, Germany apologized at once to Hungary.

"No." She smiled, rather sadly. "He's got every reason to be angry." She slipped his arm around his and they stepped a bit away from the car. "When Roderich took in Feliciano, we could have taken Lovino."

"Why didn't you?"

Hungary looked like she was in pain. "You have to understand, it was hard back then. Roderich told everyone that Lovino was too much trouble. That was a lie. He only said that so people wouldn't think he was growing weak. Roderich wanted to keep all of Italy, but he already had so much to take care of. He knew he could do well with one of the boys, but two… he wasn't sure he could give two of them the attention they deserved. They were both so young. And Romano was very much like he is now – scared and angry. I don't think he ever really healed from when the Roman Empire abandoned him. Roderich knew he couldn't give Romano the attention he needed. It was a hard decision for Roderich, but he knew he couldn't keep them both."

"So he gave Lovino to Spain."

"Spain was very strong so Roderich knew that Lovino would be protected. He wasn't a bad person, either. He was pleasant and friendly and said Lovino would be allowed to visit Feliciano when he pleased and that he'd open his house to Feliciano if he wanted to visit Lovino. It seemed like the best choice." She looked over at the fuming Lovino. "Roderich didn't give Lovino away because he was unwanted, but because he was trying to do what was best for Lovino. He never meant for Lovino to be hurt, but… Lovino was hurt all the same."

Germany nodded and patted Hungary's arm. "We'll be back in a couple of days. Be safe and call if you need me." By the time he got to his car, Lovino was sitting in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"What do you think you're doing?" Germany asked.

"Driving. Get in." Lovino gave Germany a look that clearly said he thought Germany was being deliberately slow. "You are coming with us, aren't you? Where's the key?"

Germany put his fists on his hips. "Get in the back, Lovino."

"I'm driving!"

"It's my car and I'm driving."

"You're still hurt and you'll get us killed, dummy. I'm - "

"Begging for a smack to the backside," Germany grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lovino blanched. "You wouldn't."

"He would," Feliciano said. "Believe me."

Germany then said, "I think you also need your filthy mouth washed out with soap, considering how you spoke to Hungary. She IS a lady."

Feliciano squeezed between Germany and the car and tugged on his brother's arm. "Come on! I'll sit in the back with you. Germany doesn't joke about discipline."

At that point, before Lovino could explode, Japan spoke up. He put a hand on Feliciano's shoulder and gently drew him away. "I know how you value time with your brother, Veneziano-kun, but perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of his company for this trip." Japan looked at Lovino. "And if Romano-kun would honor me by sitting with me." He gave Lovino a little bow and, somehow, his soft words had more of an affect than Germany would have expected.

Lovino looked distrustfully at Japan, bit his bottom lip, and seemed to waver. "I drive damned well."

"I'm sure you must. You got everyone here safely and, I'm certain, very quickly. Still, this is Germany's car and, as I have been with him the entire morning, I can attest to the fact that he is well enough to drive." He gave one of those small, rare smiles of his. "And you and I should take time to get to know one another, should we not? It would be a shame if I were to know your brother so well and you not at all."

Lovino flushed and slowly took his hands off the steering wheel. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

So Japan sat with Lovino in the back of the car and Feliciano was delighted to take his seat next to Germany in the front. As was his habit, Feliciano sat too close, all but sitting in Germany's lap while they drove. He continually tried to slip his arm around Germany's or lean his head against Germany's shoulder. It was most distracting. However, after being pushed away a few times, Feliciano eventually gave in to his nature and the warm air and sunshine and fell asleep. He managed to fall asleep with his head on Germany's lap, somehow, and Germany had to pull the car over so he could sit Feliciano up and lean him against the door. Of course, Feliciano never woke up while he was being shifted around.  
Without Feliciano's cheerful chatter in his ear, Germany was easily able to hear half of the conversation going on in the back seat. He could only hear half of the conversation as Japan spoke in his habitual soft voice and Germany couldn't hear him at all. Lovino, on the other hand, seem to find it difficult to speak in anything less than a shout. A glance or two in the rearview mirror was all that Germany needed to reassure himself that all was going well; Japan knew exactly what to say to put Lovino at ease. In fact, the two seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Every fourth day, I told him. Give it water every forth day. And do you think he listened? No! He went and let my poor begonia wilt! It died. It was murder, cold-blooded murder!" Lovino made a snorting noise. "It wasn't too much effort. Least, I don't think it was." He paused when Japan said something. "I was so mad I thought I'd have to kill him." Again, a pause. "Well, of course I love my plants. Someone has to and… no. I don't think so." Lovino laughed. "Yeah?"

As time moved on, Lovino's boisterous chatter became softer and more subdued. Another look in the rearview mirror showed that his whole body language had changed, too. His face was darkened by a soft blush and he sat very still with his hands in his lap. Japan watched Lovino with that ever intense gaze of his and his gentle smile.

If a little attention flustered Lovino so greatly, then Germany had to wonder how little attention Lovino usually got. Spain was forever going on about his cute little Romano and appeared to dote on him, but if that was truth, then why should having someone's full attention on him cause such a change in him?

Germany turned his attention back to the road ahead. Feliciano was napping. Lovino was quiet. Japan, as always, was content. Austria was at his home with his music and Hungary was taking care of the dogs. Whatever Prussia was up to – he kept his own council – he was no doubt enjoying himself. If only Germany's head would stop throbbing, then all would be well in his world.

For hours they traveled until they reached Japan's house. It was, like Japan himself, a modest house – tidy and well kept. Germany carried Feliciano into the guest room while Lovino, sleepy but too stubborn to let himself be carried, let Japan lead him in. Each one had a separate bed, but Germany had little doubt that, once morning came, they would have somehow ended up in the same bed. Once the brothers were comfortably settled, Germany and Japan left the room and closed the sliding door behind them.

"Your room is ready, Germany-san. If you'll follow me."

Germany held up a hand. "Actually, I need to go do something, now. If you'll excuse me."

"Tonight?" Japan frowned. "Can it wait until morning? You know Veneziano-kun gets agitated if you aren't around when he wakes up."

Wait? How could he wait with his fingers feeling so itchy and the memory of it hovering in his mind? "No. I am sorry. Feliciano will be fine, just assure him that I will return by morning if he gets worried."

Later-

He'd put it off long enough.

Too long, really. It was his responsibility – he was the one who'd made the mess.

Germany stood in Italy's kitchen, scowling at the sight before him. The blood had darkened from red to a black when it had dried. It was undeniable evidence of his weakness. It had lingered in his mind - that blackened mess on the floor was his shame. Distracted. It was unforgivable. Even worse that he'd allowed himself to get so injured that he hadn’t even been able to clean up the mess immediately.

It was time to wash away that shame.

Rolling up his sleeves, Germany set a bucket of hot water on the floor and got down on his knees. With a bar of soap in one hand and a scrub brush in the other, he set to work washing away the dried blood he'd left on the kitchen floor.

To be continued…


	6. Training

Chapter 6: Training

 

Feliciano knew he was dreaming as soon as he saw Grandpa Rome. It was a dream, but also a memory.

"Feliciano, you stay here and be a good boy, now."

Little Feliciano, still just a small child, looked up at his grandpa. "Why? Are you going somewhere?"

He nodded with that sad smile of his. "I need to find your big brother, remember? We talked about this. You'll be safe here."

Feliciano didn't want to be alone. He hated being alone. There was no one to talk to and no one to sing with. "Can't I come with you? I want to meet big brother, too." He'd heard lots of stories about big brother Lovino and he sounded like a wonderful person. It didn't seem right that he had a big brother somewhere out there that he'd never even met. Feliciano envisioned that his big brother would be like a smaller Grandpa Rome – he would be strong and brave and he would always laugh. "What if big brother needs me?"

Grandpa Rome squatted down in front of Feliciano and drew him into a tight embrace. "Then you'll do your best to help him, always. You're my sweet grandson, my precious boy. When your big brother needs you, you'll be brave and you'll be smart and strong and you'll protect him – just like he'll protect you. That's what brothers do. Right now, though, you'll let me be the protector and you'll stay here where it's safe. Yes?"

"Yes, grandpa." 

Suddenly, Feliciano was all grown-up and almost as tall as Grandpa Rome. He was silent when Grandpa Rome turned and walked away, but he wasn't unhappy. He wanted to be with his brother and Grandpa Rome never failed; he would bring big brother home.

"Now we welcome our champions!"

Feliciano started at the loud voice and turned in a full circle, trying to find who was shouting. But there was nothing but fog all around and sand under his feet. The fog was lifting to reveal high stone walls. Over those walls, Feliciano could see people – thousands of people! - all cheering so loudly that it hurt Feliciano's ears. He wanted to runaway and cry, but there was nowhere to run to. A quick look around showed him that he was in a huge circle all surrounded by the stone walls and the people were still looking down at him and they were waved their hands and shouting and shouting.

With a sickening feeling of dread, he knew where he was – Grandpa Rome's Coliseum.

"Give your cheers to our first champion from the far east!"

Japan, dressed in the pretty robes he was so fond of, was there. He had one hand on that skinny sword he always carried with him, but stood straight and tall, without acknowledging the world around him at all.

"Japan!" Feliciano ran to Japan and hugged him. "I don't know what's going on, but I think it's a dream and if it's not a dream, then I think we might be in lots of trouble because the people up there don't look very nice and Grandpa Rome told me he had these places so his people could have fun watching other people die and I'm scared! I can't find my white flags. Where are my flags? Japan, help me find my flags, please."

It was as if Japan couldn't see him; like he was a statue made of flesh and bone rather than stone.

"Japan? Please? I need my flags."

But the loud voice spoke, again. "And a favorite of our audience, time after time, show your support for our reigning champion from the savage wilds of Germania!"

Germany was there and dressed in his best uniform, ironed and starched, and holding his rifle in his hands. . He'd ironed it, too. There was something wrong about him standing in the arena of sand. He stood at attention, too, as if he were waiting for an inspection. Just like Japan, Germany didn't look at the crowds cheering or at Feliciano.

The loud voice shouted, "And a local fighter, someone we all know!"

Lovino. He, too, was standing like a statue. But unlike the others, he was not dressed in clothing that Feliciano was used to seeing. Rather, he wore his old clothes. He was dressed head-to-toe in a long white gown with a white cap on his head. He had no weapons at all.

"And, of course, his brother!"

Feliciano was in his white robes, too. He hadn't worn them in years. He didn't want to wear them. He wanted his nice blue uniform or the clothes he wore when he helped Lovino in the fields or even his painting smock. He didn't want the white robe, it was too hard to keep clean. He remembered the day long ago that there had been a battle in which he couldn't remember who'd been fighting, only that there had been a lot of blood. There had been blood and people were crying and it hurt so much to see such pain that Feliciano had been desperate to do anything to stop all the pain. No one wanted to fight… so why did they? He'd never understood. None of the people who died or who'd been so badly wounded from the battle that they would never really heal, wanted to be there. And it was his fault.

Feliciano had felt an awful stab of guilt.

He didn't know much, but he'd known well-enough that everyone was fighting over him. There, in the mud on the battlefield, he'd stripped himself of the white robe and started waving it over his head – anything to get attention!

"I surrender! Stop fighting! I surrender!"

But, in the sand arena the white robe was back and it felt wrong. White was pure and clean – he'd been in too many wars to wear such a color. Blood. There was blood on his robe. Feliciano tried to wipe the blood away, but it only smeared more and it got all over his hands. "Germany?" He wiped some more, but the blood felt warm and he didn't know where it was coming from. He didn't feel hurt. "Germany, help. Germany!" He looked up and was suddenly distracted from the blood all over him.

They were surrounded.

All of his friends had moved so that they stood back-to-back in a circle. Their weapons were poised, aimed at the enemy surrounding them.

America, England, France, China, and Russia circled them and each one was armed.

As quickly as he could, Feliciano began tugging at his robe, but it wouldn't come off. He couldn't figure out why, but he couldn't get it off. He couldn't stop the battle. "No fighting!" He shouted it even as he struggled futilely to get the robe off. "Nobody fight!" 

America took a long step towards Japan and, without reason, Japan dropped his sword and fell to his knees before he collapsed face first in the sand.

The audience went wild, cheering with abandon.

"No! Don't cheer; it's not good!" Feliciano looked up at the crowd. "He's hurt!"

But then France stepped towards Lovino and Lovino went down, just as Japan had.

"Germany, do something! Make them stop!" But then the enemy all stepped forward at the same time and Germany fell. His rifle hit the sand before he did.

Alone.

Feliciano was the only one standing and all of the enemy turned towards him.

"I don't want to fight!" No one was listening. "Grandpa! Grandpa Rome!"

There, in the Emperor's box, sat Grandpa Rome. He wore his toga and his bright red cape. With a smile, he watched the scene below and Feliciano, who had never doubted his place in Grandpa Rome's heart, was hurt by the look of amusement he wore as Feliciano's friends were struck low. "You have to fight for them, Feliciano," Grandpa Rome called down. "You're my grandson. You have to fight."

Feliciano was so scared, he thought he might wet himself. He had no weapons and he was smaller than all of the allies... and they were looking at him… moving closer and closer.

"Come on, Feliciano!" Grandpa Rome was standing and waving a fist over his head. "You can do it! They're not dead, yet! You can do it!"

Feliciano ran to Germany and fell on his knees. He shook Germany by the shoulders as hard as he could. "Wake up, please! Please! Germany, you have to wake up because everyone needs you and I'm scared and you promised you'd always be there to help me when I needed you and I need you, now! You have to wake up, please, please!" He was crying and could hardly see but he knew the allies – the enemies – were getting closer and Germany wasn't waking up. "Ludwig, please. Oh, please." Desperate, and without much thought at all, Feliciano grabbed Germany's fallen rifle. He knew how to use it. Germany had spent days drilling Feliciano on using it. And Feliciano, to protect the people he loved, did as he'd been taught. Without a mistake, hesitation or thought or doubt, he pulled the trigger.

Dead.

Everyone was dead with that one shot and there was blood on the sand.

Feliciano stared around at what he'd done and let the rifle drop to the ground. He felt sick.

The sound of applauding made him look up. The stadium was empty of everyone but Grandpa Rome and he was clapping and smiling. "Just like me, my cute little grandson. You're just like me."

Feeling light-headed and faint, Feliciano went back down onto his knees at Germany's side and desperately trying not to look at the rifle. He petted Germany's face. "It's okay. You can wake up. You're safe, now." But Germany's skin was cool to the touch. With shaking fingers, Feliciano reached down and pressed his fingers against Germany's throat. Nothing.  
Grandpa Rome had lied, again.

He'd said he would bring Lovino home to live with them. He'd said he wouldn't be gone long. He'd said that Feliciano's friends weren't dead. Lies.

Even as Feliciano ran his fingers through Germany's hair, Grandpa Rome appeared in front of Feliciano and smiled down at him. "It's alright. You don't need him anymore."

Feliciano silently shook his head.

"But you don't. You don't need any of them. You can take care of yourself, now." He picked up the rifle and held it out to Feliciano.

Though he didn't want the rifle, never even wanted to look at it, Feliciano stood and looked Grandpa Rome in the eyes. Without a word, he reached out and took the rifle…

…

…

…

Feliciano woke with a gasp.

The room was dark and familiar. It took him a minute to realize that it was Japan's guest room. He drew his knees up to his chest and just sat there, shaking for a long while. He wanted to go find Germany so badly, but some silly part of him was afraid that if he did, Germany would know what he'd done in his dream, he'd know that Feliciano had fired the rifle. How proud Germany would have been! It was what he'd always wanted – for Feliciano to be able to take care of himself. Feliciano didn't want Germany to know, didn't want to earn Germany's approval like that. He didn't want to fire the rifle. He didn't want to fight and, as much as he loved him, he didn't want to be like Grandpa Rome. If being able to take care of himself meant that he would be alone… then he would rather be helpless. He would sooner be stupid and foolish forever if that was what it took to keep his loved ones near.

Once he'd calmed himself enough to push the nightmare at least a little away from himself, Feliciano looked around the room. It was still early. The one window in the room showed that the sun hadn't even begun to rise, yet. Feliciano pulled the blankets up to his chin and stared at the ceiling. He didn't like the darkness and he certainly didn't like being alone. The bed was small, but it felt huge without the warmth of another body next to him. He rolled to one side and saw Lovino's sleeping form in the bed on the other side of the room. Lovino's soft snoring was a comfort, but, for once, Feliciano didn't creep into his brother's bed. Instead, he suddenly realized something important, smiled, and slipped out of bed.

Awake… without Germany waking him up!

He was so very pleased that he'd finally have done something good that Germany would be proud of. Why, he was awake so early that probably even Germany was still asleep! Just imagine – he could be the one to wake Germany up, for once. 'Wake up time, sleepyhead,' he would say while shaking Germany's shoulder. 'Can't sleep all day. Time to train.' And Germany would smile at him, pet him on the head, and praise him for being so responsible.

Germany would be in Japan's living room, undoubtedly, where he always bedded down on the floor when they visited Japan. Japan had offered, many times, to get another bed or to even add a room onto his house for Germany, but Germany had insisted that he was quite comfortable sleeping on the floor.

Feliciano stretched his arms over his head and, as quietly as he could, retrieved his overnight bag from where he had left it by the door. It was hard as he couldn't see well in the dark, but he didn't want to wake up Lovino, who was a much lighter sleeper. He took his bag into the hallway and turned the hall light on only when the guest room's door was safely closed behind him. There, he pulled out underclothes, socks, and a shirt then re-checked the bundle twice to make sure he had everything. His shirt was wrinkled, though, and it made him pout, but, he assured himself, Germany would be happy that he remembered all of his clothes and that would definitely make up for wrinkles!

He dressed in the hall and smoothed down his clothes the best that he could. Perhaps, just maybe, even Lovino would be pleased with him.

'Stupid little brother.'

Feliciano could hear Lovino's scoffing. No. He wouldn't be impressed by something so trifling as getting dressed. It would take something much grander to get his attention and Feliciano knew that he would probably never manage it. It was doubly hard considering that Feliciano had never been able to learn what would make Lovino happy.

He shook his head. No point in worrying over it. He knew he wasn't very smart. But he did his best, always, and someday his big brother would see that. Someday, Lovino would stop yelling and he would stop being angry and sad and scared… someday. And then, when he did, maybe he'd love Feliciano enough to tell him how, because Feliciano really wanted to stop being scared, too. He wanted to walk through a crowd without Germany next to him and not be afraid. He wanted to stop crying for people who were never going to be coming back to him. He wanted to stop that festering anger that he worked so hard to keep secret – the anger that Grandpa Rome had taken him away and then just left him all alone. But first, he'd decided long ago, he would help Lovino because he loved his big brother and wanted him to be happy more than he wanted himself to be happy. Just like Germany. He wanted Germany to be happy – to smile and, maybe, to laugh. Germany was so wonderful that he deserved that kind of happiness.

Feliciano went very still. He'd have given anything to have them both be happy, but… he couldn't stop the pain in his heart when he had to admit to himself that he knew how they could both be happy. He'd known since that Valentine's Day when Germany had pulled out a tomato-shaped ring that he knew the perfect way to make them both happy.  
At the very bottom of his bag, Feliciano found his notebook and his pencil. He never went anywhere without them and it was one of the few secrets he kept from Germany. He sat in the hall with his back resting against a wall as he opened the notebook and flipped through it until he found a blank page and started to draw.

He drew the sandy arena from his nightmare and he drew the rifle he'd fired. He drew the look in France's eyes when he'd made Lovino fall and once he filled a whole page with all the scary parts of his nightmare, he turned the page with a smile and started to draw birds. He'd always rather liked birds. When that page was filled with feathers and beaks and small, black eyes, he closed his notebook and put it back in the bag only to take out a different notebook. He didn't like that one nearly so well, but it was important. Germany said it was important and Japan had agreed with Germany. Once again, he searched for an empty page and then, with the pencil tightly gripped in his hand, he began to write. Over and over he practiced writing. Germany had given him the notebook not long after they'd met and told Feliciano that it wasn't terribly important what he wrote, so long as he practiced until he could write well. So Feliciano spent time each days writing down whatever sprung to mind and was very careful to go slow and make it as neat as possible.

"Veneziano-kun," Japan was suddenly there, at the other end of the hall, wearing his nightclothes that looked so very much like the fancy robes he like. "I didn't expect to see you awake so early. Is anything wrong?"

"Nope." Feliciano closed his notebook and put it away. He hadn't even noticed the breaking dawn. "Are you happy?"

Japan blinked, then gave that soft little smile he always wore when he was humoring Feliciano. "Shouldn't I be?"

"I want everyone to be happy and I just decided how I'm going to make big brother and Germany happy. Now I need to know what to do for you."

"I'm quite content the way I am." Japan looked thoughtful as he moved gracefully towards Feliciano. "And as for Germany, I think that Germany is happy when you are happy."

"But-"

"And your brother, I think, is going through a rough time. We will all be here if he needs us. Sometimes, that's all we can do unless he decides to ask for help. When he has worked through this hard time of his, he will be happy, too."

"But big brother doesn't ask for help – not with important things. And I really want him to be happy now." He paused and rubbed his toe against the floor, suddenly unsure. "Japan, it's good, isn't it? If I know a way to make them both happy, it would be good to do it, right? No matter how much I don't like it. I think it would be. I'm pretty sure. Yes! Yes, I'm sure. So long as everyone's happy, it'll work out. Now I just have to worry about you, Japan." Feliciano took Japan's hands and pulled him closer. "I'll make you happy, too, and don't say you're content. That's not the same thing as being happy, but don't you worry - I'll work on it and I'll think of something!"

"Now, really, Veneziano-kun-"

"And you should call me Feliciano; everyone else does and it would be really nice if you did, too. Besides, we're friends, right?"

Japan blushed, but that tiny smile of his crept out, again. "I am honored, Feliciano-kun."

"Good! Good! I have to… ah! Germany!"

In the hallway, Germany, looking exhausted, stood. He rubbed his eyes, then stared at Felicano and started to blush, as he so often did. "Where are your trousers?"

Feliciano looked down at his bare legs and felt like crying. Trousers! "Sorry! Sorry!" He grabbed his bag and dashed back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him before he leaned his back against it. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get it right! The trousers were on the floor, near where his overnight bag had been. They must have fallen out when he'd tossed his bag on the floor before going to bed.

He was just zipping up his trousers when there was a knock on the door. Germany poked his head into the room. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready. Look." He held his arms out at his side and turned around for inspection. "Good?"

He could tell that Germany was amused by him by the way his eyes smiled. Most people smiled with their lips, but as Germany's mouth never seemed to want to smile, so his eyes made up for it. Not everyone could see it, but Feliciano could.

"Very good." Germany said. "But put your training uniform on after breakfast. I told you this wasn't going to be an excuse for you to skip out of training."

"Right! No problem. I'm ready to run."

"No." Germany said. "No running, this time. I know you can run like a champion, so it's time to do something different."

"What sort of different? Is it something fun? Something hard? I don't like doing hard things. They're too hard. You're not going to make me do something like jumping over rivers or fighting with bears, are you? I don't think I could fight a bear, not even a cub, because, you know, they have teeth and claws and big feet and fur and they're really scary." He started to dig his training clothes out of his bag, but turned around when he heard Germany say,

"Wake up, Lovino. It's morning."

Of course Lovino only snorted and rolled away from Germany. Germany frowned and shook Lovino's shoulder. "Go away." Lovino muttered. He tried to pull the blanket over his head, but Germany caught it. "Leave me alone."

"No. It is time to get up. Now."

Lovino said something that was, to say the very least, rude.

Feliciano gasped.

Germany scowled and, without turning away from Lovino, said, "Feliciano, go have some breakfast with Japan."

"Yes. Okay. Right." He hurriedly pulled his training clothes out of his bag and started out the door.

"Feliciano."

"Yes?"

"Don't come back. You stay out there until I come out, understand?"

Feliciano looked at the shape of his big brother under the blankets and then at Germany. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That's a funny reason."

"Just go." Germany finally turned from Lovino and looked at Feliciano. The smile was gone from his eyes. "Now."

Feliciano didn't like it, but Germany was always right. He never made mistakes and he always knew what was best for everyone whether that meant what they should eat or how much to train or when bed time should be. He was never, ever wrong. So Feliciano nodded, "Okay."

Germany-

It was a long time coming and Germany knew that it was a good time as any. Really, Spain was to blame. He should have reined Lovino in when he was young. Did he think he was doing Lovino any favors by ignoring such behavior?

The moment the door closed behind Feliciano Germany took hold of the blanket covering Lovino and yanked.

"Hey! What are you doing? You-"

Germany put a hand over Lovino's mouth and leaned close enough that he could make sure Lovino was looking at him. "Before you cuss at me, let me inform you of the rule that you will follow while you are under my care. You will show me no disrespect. If you treat me with such insolence as you've shown in the past, you will be disciplined. If you cuss, you will get your mouth washed out with soap. This is your warning - the only one you'll get. If you are disrespectful to me, you will," Germany paused. It wouldn't go over well, but he couldn't think of any other way to solve Lovino's overactive mouth. He only knew what his big brother had used with him when he'd been a child and started to spout sass. "You will earn a spanking."

As Germany expected, when he took his hand off Lovino's mouth, Lovino let loose with a few choice words and an attempt to kick Germany. Lovino roared, "You can't make me respect you, you ass!"

"True, but I can teach you to act respectfully and to use your sense." Steeling himself, Germany rolled up his sleeves. "When you come upon someone bigger than yourself and when that bigger person happens to be well-known for violence, it would be wise for you to speak politely to them rather than be mouthy.”

Lovino's eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't!" When Germany said nothing and just stared at him, Lovino turned red. "You can't!"

"I do not make idle threats."

Lovino swore at him, again.

Germany sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You are my ally, but right now you and your mouth are a threat not only to yourself but to me, Japan, and your little brother. We all have enough trouble without inviting more for ourselves. As your ally, it's my responsibility to help you – whether you want help or not." With Lovino protesting all the while, Germany pulled Lovino over his lap. It was only to be expected that Lovino have an even more energetic than usual tantrum and Germany let him have it, waiting patiently until Lovino wore himself out. He didn't mind waiting. Prussia had always been patient when Germany had been a child and needed some discipline, after all. Thankfully, he'd never had to do much of a serious lesson for Feliciano and he suspected that he had Hungary to thank for that. Austria was far too soft to deal out discipline, but Hungary understood the necessity of it. 

When Lovino had seemed to use up all of his energy, Germany began the discipline.

He wasn't excessively harsh, at least he didn't think so, and it was only ten swats. Those ten were quite enough to start Lovino bawling. He kicked and swung his arms futilely as he swore in Italian between sobs. After the swats and after Lovino had at least marginally settled, Germany put Lovino back to bed and covered him back up with the blanket. "You must remember this lesson. Always think before you speak. I will not allow you to endanger yourself."

Lovino sniffled noisily and shook his head without speaking with his face buried in his pillow.

Germany didn't like it when people cried at him. He never knew what to do. Shouting only ever made it worse and no matter what he tried to say, it never seemed to do any good. So, again, he followed Prussia's example and repeated the sweet words that had long ago made his tears stop when whispered by his adored big brother. "Don't be a wimp. Someday, with enough discipline, you'll be a force for the whole world to reckon with. Everyone will run screaming when they hear your name. Mass panic will ensue wherever you go."

Lovino just cried harder.

Damn.

In hindsight, he should have known not to try gentle words. Of course it wouldn't work as it was coming from him.

With no other ideas about how to comfort someone, Germany resorted to just resting a hand on Lovino's shaking back. His shoulders slumped and he gave up trying to think of anything clever or comforting. "Look at it this way – you learn how to control yourself and you can do a better job of protecting your little brother. That's what you really want, isn't it? You're too important to risk getting killed for the foolish reason that you couldn't control your mouth."

Lovino trembled, slapped both hands on the bed and pushed himself up to yell, "Not important! Not!" Then he fell back down onto the bed, but it seemed that his words had broken some dam inside of him and the words couldn't stop. "Not important. Not wanted. No one cares. Even grandpa... he left me… just… left." And after that Lovino broke down into more uncontrollable crying. "Grandpa Rome left and Spain wanted to give me away and now he… he…"

"You are important to your brother. You want to be strong for him, don't you? To be strong, you must be able to control yourself."

There were times when Germany felt entirely over his head and most of those situations involved Italy in some shape or form. This time was no different. He could understand why Lovino was so upset – Germany had obviously been much harsher than he'd meant to be and Lovino now had good reason to be afraid of him. It wasn't like when he'd been a child and his big brother had done such things to teach him. No, Prussia wasn't in the least bit scary and only ever did what was needed in order to take care of Germany. Though Germany had only intended to do good, Lovino was bound to be even more afraid of him than before. Germany had half expected that the situation would turn out in such a way when he'd resolved to do what Spain should have done for Lovino a long time ago, but that didn't mean that he liked it. Still, Lovino had to learn some control or he would end up getting himself into a mess bigger than he could handle. He would find himself tangling with someone like America or Russia, someone who really could destroy him. No matter. Let Lovino hate and fear him – that really didn't matter. If a few swats was what it took for Lovino to learn to keep himself safe, then Germany knew he had nothing to be sorry for.  
So, he just sat with Lovino and kept patting his back and ended up muttering nonsense that he knew would make him seem all the more foolish to Lovino. "Hush. It's alright. You're safe here. Nothing to worry about." Then he added something Austria had always told him. "It's okay to cry." When that did nothing, Germany muttered, "I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Lovino hiccupped and turned his head just enough to scowl up at Germany. "You think you're some kind of bad, don't you? I've had worse beatings from Lichtenstein."

Now that was just insulting.

Germany stayed there until Lovino had fallen sound asleep. The way he'd thrashed about and hollered, it really wasn't a surprise that he needed more sleep and Germany decided to give him an extra hour or so. He could take Feliciano for that walk around Japan's gardens while they waited for Lovino. That thought brought a tiny smile to his face.

Feliciano-

It was nearly noon before Lovino was out of bed and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, like he'd been crying, and he kept shooting unhappy looks at Germany.

"You look like you ate something nasty, big brother," Feliciano said. "What was it?"

"German soap. Stop hanging on me."

After everyone had eaten and had changed into their training outfits, Germany took everyone out to Japan's backyard and told Feliciano to sit with Japan while he started Lovino's training. It was scary to see someone as big as Germany standing face-to-face with Lovino, who was no bigger than Feliciano, but it would all work out. Germany wouldn't hurt Lovino just to hurt him and whatever training Germany had in mind would surely be good for Lovino.

"I don't like the uniform." Lovino wrinkled his nose at the shirt with 'Trooper #3' embroidered onto the front of it. "Tacky. Just awful. Don't you have any sense of style? I mean, honestly, I wouldn't have worn this when I was an infant."

"The style doesn't matter," Germany grumbled. He didn't bother to hide his hands and Feliciano was able to see that his fingertips were covered in bandages. Obviously, he'd made Lovino's uniform himself. Perhaps, he'd made Feliciano's uniform, too. "It's a matter of order. Now, put these on." He tossed a pair of boxing gloves to Lovino.

Lovino's eyes grew wide as he caught the gloves. "What?"

"Put them on. You've got a lot of fighting spirit; you just need to learn how to focus it."

Thrilled at the sight of his big brother even holding the gloves, Feliciano couldn't help himself and ran to Lovino. "Let me help!" He tried shoving one of the gloves on Lovino's hand, which worked well enough until Lovino started pulling away.

"I can do it myself! I don't need any help!"

"Just let me tie the laces, come on! I can do it! I've been practicing with my shoelaces for weeks, now. Haven't I been doing well, Germany?"

"Very, but the telephone is ringing. Why don't you go answer it for Japan? He's been a good host, so we should help him, ja?"

Feliciano hadn't even noticed the phone ringing until then. "Right, Germany! I'll get it!" He didn't turn back towards them until he reached the door and when he did turn back he saw Germany tugging the laces of the boxing gloves tight on Lovino. With his free hand, Lovino pointed at the tomato ring Germany wore on a chain around his neck. Germany blushed and tucked the ring inside his shirt before he cast a quick look at Feliciano, then went back to tying Lovin's gloves up.

With a sad smile, Feliciano ran to answer the phone. "Hello. You've reached Japan's house, this is Italy. Do you have a kitty? Everyone should. Or maybe a doggie. I like those, too."

"Italy! Is Romano there? Please, if he's around, I really need to talk to him."

The smile faded from Feliciano's face. "Hello, Spain. Ah… big brother is busy."

"But he's there? He's safe?"

"Of course he's safe." Feliciano looked out the window to where Germany was demonstrating to Lovino how to hit with the boxing gloves. To do it, he made a slow-motion move and lightly tapped Lovino on the chest with it. "Germany's hitting him."

The scream that resounded over the telephone was so piercing that Feliciano dropped the phone. "Spain? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Germany is hitting my Romano? And Japan's just letting it happen?" Spain started to swear and Feliciano suddenly realized where Lovino had learned most of his naughty words. "That does it! I don't care if Germany has a whole arsenal; I'm coming right over!"

"No," Feliciano said. "Everything's good here. Big brother isn't even crying anymore." He'd been alarmed when he'd first heard the crying and yelling from the room where he'd left Germany with his big brother early in the morning. Then he'd remembered that he, too, often yelled and cried, but he always felt safe with Germany around, so no matter what was upsetting Lovino, he knew that Germany would take care of it. And he had. The crying had stopped and Germany said he even let Lovino have more time to sleep.

"He was crying?" Spain sounded almost as if he would cry, too. "Did you give him a hug? He says he doesn't like them, but they always make him feel better. Why was he crying, anyway?"

"Gee. I don't know. I wasn't in the room with him and Germany when big brother was crying. Big brother was in bed when Germany came in and Germany told me I should leave the room and not come back until he was done with big brother. When big brother did come out of his room, he'd stopped crying so I suppose Germany must have given him a hug. Germany's really nice like that. In fact, I'll bet he gave big brother lots of hugs and did other things that made him feel good." Maybe he told Lovino a story; that always made Feliciano feel better when he was unhappy.

Spain groaned. "No. No. No. Please, tell Romano that I need to talk to him. If he can't get away from Germany right now, then I'll meet him somewhere."

Feliciano just kept watching the boxing lesson, outside. Lovino was keeping his hands up and hesitantly jabbing when Germany encouraged him to. Japan, still sitting nearby, also gave his soft spoken support. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Spain."

"What? Why not?"

"What did you do to my big brother?"

"I don't know."

"You did something. He was so upset. I don't like seeing big brother so unhappy."

"I swear to you, Italy, I don't know what happened. I was drinking and I can't remember much afterwards. When I woke up he was angry and wouldn't talk to me and he left to go to your house that day. I need to talk to him to find out what happened. I'll apologize for whatever it was that I did."

"I don't think that's a very good idea. I think big brother will be happy with Germany."

"With Germany? What are you talking about?"

"Well, Germany's in love with Lovino and I think Lovino's starting to like him, too. I know – surprise, huh? I didn't even know until I saw the tomato ring that Germany keeps. Everyone knows that big brother loves tomatoes, so Germany must have made it for big brother."

The proposal on Valentine's Day had been a pretty obvious mistake. Feliciano had known that Germany made a mistake the minute he saw the ring. A tomato ring. A ring that had clearly made just for Lovino. Only Germany, like so many others, had made a mistake and thought that Feliciano was Lovino. He wasn't altogether sure how such a mistake had happened because Germany was so much smarter than everyone else, but somehow he must have invited Feliciano to the restaurant instead of Lovino and then confused the two of them. They did look an awful look alike, but Feliciano had thought that Germany would have known the difference. Yes, it was all pretty clear. Why would he get a tomato ring for Feliciano, after all? With Germany holding out the ring and then hugging Feliciano, Feliciano had suddenly realized the mistake and that realization had hurt… badly. When he'd met Japan later, he hadn't even wanted to talk about it. And afterwards, Germany had acted so embarrassed and had never mentioned it, again. He must have known what a big mistake he'd made and felt humiliated. As time had gone on, Feliciano found that he couldn't stop showing his affection for Germany, even though he'd known that Germany wouldn't return it. He'd given kisses and hugs and even sat on Germany's lap once or twice; he just couldn't help himself. He would have to stop the flirting, he told himself. If he wanted to be fair to both Germany and Lovino, then he would have to let them flirt with each other. 

Feliciano added, "And now that big brother is living with us, he's going to get to see how strong and kind and pretty Germany is, so he'll fall in love, too. They'll both be happy."

"But… but…"

"I'm going to hang up now because I'm not happy with you; I think you shouldn't see big brother anymore until you can be nice to him. If he wants to talk to you, he'll call you." Feliciano was about to hang up, ignoring Spain's outraged spluttering and pleas, when a thought occurred to him and he quickly asked, "When Germany and big brother get married, do you want to come to the wedding?" He hung up when Spain started to cry.

As he went back out to the yard, Feliciano wanted to cry, too. As much as he wanted them both to be happy, he wanted to be the one that Germany was in love with.

Lovino was sweating heavily and panting for breath by the time Feliciano sat back down beside Japan on the grass. He looked angry and frustrated as he kept trying to hit Germany.

"Don't just swing, think!" Germany told Lovino. He, too, had donned his boxing gloves and jabbed at Lovino, only making contact lightly once in a while. "Swinging blindly won't get you anything but tired. Move your feet, you don't want to be a sitting target, do you?"

Feliciano clapped his hands and whistled. "Yay, big brother! Show him how tough Italians are!"

Although he chuckled quietly at Feliciano's enthusiasm, Japan also did his share of cheering. He would occasionally advising, "Keep calm, Romano-kun. Don't let yourself get upset."

On and on the training went until, all of a sudden, everything stopped.

Somewhere in Japan's garden, a cricket sang.

Feliciano forgot to breathe.

Japan sat wide-eyed and frozen.

Even Germany had gone very still.

As for Lovino, he stared in disbelieve at his hand… his hand that had made contact with Germany's chest. "I… I did it?" He licked his lips and pulled his gloved hand away from Germany and held it up to his face, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd done. "I did it? I landed a hit?" A broad smile broke out across his face and Feliciano smiled just to see it; it was so rare to see Lovino honestly happy. "I did it!" The training forgotten, he swung around and beamed at Feliciano. "Did you see it? Did you see me? I did it!" He laughed and ran to Feliciano, so delighted with what he'd done that, for the first time in a long time, he threw his arms around Feliciano and hugged him tightly. "I hit Germany! I did it." His face quickly became wet with happy tears even as he laughed. "I can fight! I'm not weak!"

"I'm so proud of you!" Feliciano hugged Lovino back and kissed his cheek. "You're so strong. I knew you could do it, I just knew it!"

To be continued…


	7. Beer

Chapter 7: Beer

Japan-

Watching the two brothers celebrate Romano-kun's victory was enough to bring a smile to even Japan's stoic face. Romano-kun not only allowed Feliciano-kun to hug him, but also gave him one in return. They began babbling together in Italian and Feliciano-kun danced merrily around his brother, swinging his arms over his head. It was a heartwarming sight. And why shouldn't they celebrate? Why shouldn't Romano-kun look so pleased with himself? Why shouldn't he hug those boxing gloves to his chest as though they were some grand trophy?

He had done it.

Finally, he had proven to himself that he could be strong. Perhaps the blow he'd landed on Germany had only been a small one, so small that Germany-san hadn't even let out a grunt, but it was a blow, nonetheless. He now understood that he was neither weak nor cowardly – he was untrained. He could learn to be just as strong as any of the world's great powers.

"Did you allow that blow?" Japan asked quietly as he moved to stand next to Germany-san. Together, they watched the rejoicing brothers.

With a blush, Germany-san looked away from the Italy brothers and Japan. "Self-confidence is a great motivation. If he believes he can accomplish a task, he won't have an excuse not to do it." Then he sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. "Feliciano isn't meant for war. It just isn't in him to fight. I'm glad that you suggested another vein of training for him. Lovino, however, has enough spirit to grow into a legend – like his grandfather."

"If I may ask, why do you call him 'Lovino' rather than 'Romano'?"

Germany-san shrugged. "You know I'm simple. I think it would get very confusing to call them both 'Italy'. And Feliciano doesn't mind that I use his personal name. If I use his, it seems only fair that I do the same for Lovino, doesn't it?" He paused and fidgeted a moment, glancing nervously at Japan. "And you… Do you think I should call you…? Ah! Not all the time, of course, I wouldn't in public, if you don't like, but…"

It was Japan's turn to flush. Even China, his own big brother, had never asked for the intimacy of using his personal name. But he trusted Germany-san as he trusted few others and Germany-san was nothing if not sincere. He would not ask if he didn't feel that they were truly close and, honestly, Japan was flattered by the question, rather than insulted. "I would be most honored if you were to call me Kiku. May I…?"

"If you wish, you may call me Ludwig."

Japan thought, as Germany-san blushed, again, that for all of Germany-san's strength and fierce disposition, he could just as adorable as either of the Italy brothers.

Clearly embarrassed by his blush (which only made him blush all the harder) Germany-san whipped around, away from Japan, and barked, "Enough of this lazing about! We haven't all day and training is important. Feliciano, you go with Japan to do your training."

Feliciano-kun blinked in surprise from where he sat on the grass with his arms around his big brother. "I'm not training with you?"

"No. I told you – you have different training, now."

Doubtfully, Feliciano-kun looked at Romano-kun who was still beaming at his boxing gloves. Feliciano-kun looked unhappy, but did as he was told and walked a short distance away with Japan. Once they were settled in the far corner of the garden, well away from Germany-san and Romano-kun's boxing lessons, Japan sat on a large boulder and motioned for Italy-kun to sit with him.

"Germany-san and I have been discussing your training for some time now," Japan told Feliciano-kun. He paused, sorting out his thoughts and trying to make them sound as least insulting as possible. "Fighting… it's just not… you. Do you understand?"

Italy-kun smiled and nodded rapidly. "That's just what I thought!"

Japan blinked. He should have known that such a thing couldn't possibly insult Feliciano-kun. "I'm glad that we're in agreement. Germany-san was worried that you would be upset."

"He was?" Feliciano-kun's eyes went wide and he looked back over to where Germany-san had gotten Lovino-kun back on his feet. "Really?"

"Really. Now, you did such a very good job taking care of Germany-san when he was hurt that - "

"I did, didn't I?" But Italy-kun's bright face faded almost at once and he leaned a little closer to Japan. "He's still hurt."

"Germany-san is very smart and he knows how much everyone depends on him. He will take care of his health."

"But…" Feliciano-kun didn't have nearly so much tact as Japan and kept watching Germany-san. "Sometimes he doesn't take care of himself. He doesn't sleep enough and sometimes he forgets to eat. I don't think he cares much about himself."

That Feliciano-kun could be so perceptive was shocking. "Then you and I will have to look after him, won't we?"

"Yup! And big brother!"

"And big brother. Of course. Now, as for your new training, Germany-san and I have decided that you will be better suited to being our team's medic rather than another soldier."  
It was a risky judgment, but Italy-kun had done a passable job cleaning Germany-kun up after he'd been injured and he was a caring, sympathetic sort of person, but he was also flighty and easily distracted. Still, Germany-san had insisted that Feliciano-kun was quite able to do the job.

No matter what Germany-san said, it appeared that Feliciano-kun had doubts. His eyes grew wide. "Ah… I don't think that's a very good idea."

Japan pushed aside his own reservations. "You need to have more confidence in yourself. Wait here a moment." He went back into his house and brought out a book about basic first aide. Opening it to the first page, he set the book on the ground between the two of them. "We'll start on page one."

Later, after only a couple of hours of training, Germany-san called a halt for everyone.

"Yay!" Feliciano-kun cried, throwing his hands into the air. "Germany! My brain hurts – it's too full!"

"You'll live," Germany-san said, completely unrepentant. "Studying is good for you. Did you listen to Japan?"

"Yes, Germany. I was really good. Wasn't I?" He turned to look at Japan with hopeful eyes.

"Very." Japan closed the book he and Feliciano-kun had been studying out of. "You worked hard and you remembered most of what we read." In truth, Japan had been more than a little surprised that Feliciano-kun had remembered so much of their lessons. He seemed to remember better when they read the lessons aloud rather than quietly and he could easily memorize the diagrams and drawings in the book. "And now that morning training is over, I think we should all relax for our vacation. We only have today and tomorrow, after all."

Again, Feliciano-kun cheered. To Japan's surprise, he turned to Japan and took his hand. "Let's go sight-seeing! You saw all of my home and now I want to see yours. We can go, can't we? It'll be lots of fun and I think you must have some really nice museums here because I saw some of your art before and it was great except for the porn, that kind of surprised me and maybe scared me just a little, but that's okay because if you want to show it to me I want to see it. And maybe we could go see other things, too. And talk to people. I like talking to people and you've got so many here. And shopping! We should go shopping because I want to wear a pretty robe like yours. Do you think I can get one that's pink and green and black and orange and…"

"Eh?" Romano-kun wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. "You're going out? Take that one with you, too, then." He jerked his thumb at Germany-san. "Try to see if you can get him into something at least a little fashionable."

Feliciano-kun froze. He bit his lip, cast a cautious look at Germany-san before he inched a little closer to Japan. "Oh… oh, no. I'm sorry. It's sight-seeing for just me and Japan. Is…" He kept his eyes carefully on Germany-san. "Is that okay, Germany?"

"What the Hell do you mean – is that okay?" Romano-kun burst out. "Number one, stupid little brother, you don't have to ask permission from him, it's Japan's house, isn't it? He's the one you should ask. Number two, you're on vacation. You shouldn't even have to do the damned lessons if you don't want to. What are you thinking? Oh, I forgot. You don't… ah." His words faded away when he noticed Germany-san watching him. "I mean…oh, damn."

"Of course you may go, Feliciano." Germany-san's face had gone frighteningly blank. "Have fun and be good. Call if you need me."

"We will!" Feliciano-kun was on his feet at once and pulled Japan to his. "And you and big brother have fun here. Big brother likes gardens and flowers so you should stay out here and enjoy the sun. And eat something good because that's always nice." Then he took off, running into Japan's house and holding Japan's hand all the while.

Japan said nothing as he was pulled and only when they were in the room that the Italy brothers shared did he ask, "I thought you might like to have Germany-san with us. You always seem to enjoy his company."

"Do you think I hurt his feelings? I didn't mean to." Feliciano-kun didn't look at Japan as he rummaged through his bag and pulled out clothes more appropriate for going out into public. "He should get to know big brother. They don't know each other much at all. And look how nice training turned out. Just a little while alone and big brother stopped calling Germany names. That's good, isn't it?"

"I'm sure Germany-san appreciates it." Japan hesitated, and then turned around to give Feliciano-kun some privacy (whether he wanted it or not) as he changed his clothes. "Perhaps Romano-kun simply needed more exercise to put him in a better mood. As for the sight-seeing, if it's what you wish, I am happy to show you around my home. However, I do think you should spend time with both your brother and Germany-san before we go back to Germany-san's house."

"I will, but I want them to have time together, now. I really want them to like each other. I want them to be happy." He stepped, now fully dressed, in front of Japan, smiling just as broadly as ever. It was a strained smile and there was no merry sparkle in Feliciano-kun's eyes. "Let's go now, yes? There's so much to see and I worked so hard this morning."

Japan knew he could say something about the tomato ring, but he felt fairly certain that Germany wouldn't be thankful for anyone, even Japan, to be sticking their nose into his business. Who was he to interfere in personal relations? It was just rude to assume that he knew best. After all, Germany HAD proposed and Feliciano-kun, for whatever reason, hadn't accepted. He would hope for their happiness, but little else. Of course, nothing said that he couldn't try to nudge things in a favorable direction. So he smiled and said, "We ought to get going or the shops will be full. I know a store that makes the most beautiful kimonos. You'll look nice in one with big, red flowers, I think. And maybe we can find one for Germany-san; perhaps something brown or green."

Germany-

Somehow, it wasn't much of a surprise.

Feliciano clung to Japan's arm and held his hand. They sat comfortably together while studying, smiling and talking and laughing. Feliciano had been so happy to study with him and he'd been able to concentrate much harder than he'd ever been able to when Germany had sat with him and tried to make him read.

Feliciano was clearly in love with Kiku.

Could be worse. At least Kiku was trustworthy. He would take care of Feliciano and make sure that he stayed out of too much trouble. He would also make Feliciano very happy – they had many similar interests such as art and each had a rich, old culture. It was a good pairing, really. Certainly, Japan could offer Feliciano things that Germany couldn't, such as his unending patience and his calm disposition. It would be good for Feliciano to have someone close to him who wouldn't yell all the time – like Germany did.

The pain in his chest could easily be ignored.

"Hey," Lovino poked him on the arm. "You gonna cry?"

Germany snorted. "Of course not. Go take a shower and when you come out you may have some free time to relax." He started to turn, then stopped and turned to face Lovino with narrowed eyes. "You swore."

"Oh, come on!" Lovino started to back away. "It was only a little one!"

"Big or little, you'll learn to mind your mouth and remember the rules." Germany took Lovino by the arm. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or that I'd forget the rules?" That was, of course, pure foolishness. He rarely ever forgot anything and rules had always been important for him. He had to admit, though, that Lovino was showing admirable progress in a very short time. It was the boxing, he decided. A good dose of sweat did wonders to improve one's attitude; sweat and a soapy mouth.

After that little duty had been taken care of and Germany made a note to buy more soap the next time he went shopping, he allowed Lovino to shower while he spent some time organizing the last of his paperwork.

No matter how much he did, there was always more paperwork and -

A terrible howl rang through the house. "Germany!"

Germany ran. In the hall just outside of Japan's bathroom, a dripping wet Lovino huddled against the wall with a white towel wrapped around his waist. Several feet away from him stood a tall man wearing robes and a white mask that covered only his eyes. He was broad at the shoulders with stubble on his chin and was reaching one hand out towards Lovino. Without much thought, Germany charged.

There was kicking and punching and Lovino cheering from the side. Germany, who never did think much about 'playing fair' managed to knee the invader in the crotch before punching him in the side of the head. When his enemy went limp, Germany, huffing and puffing stood up and looked Lovino up and down. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Just…" He held the towel at his waist so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "He just surprised me." Lovino's face turned red and he couldn't quite meet Germany's eyes. "I was gonna fight, but… he was just… there."

"Turkey has a fierce reputation. That he would just walk into Japan's house, though…"

"I walked in," Turkey groaned from the floor. "Because I have an open invitation. Japan happens to be a good friend of mine." He rubbed his head and sat up, scowling at Germany. "Boy, that's not very hospitable."

"I didn't invite you and therefore you are invading." Germany crossed his arms coldly and turned his head just enough to address Lovino without taking his eyes off Turkey. "Go get dressed."

Turkey chuckled as Lovino hurried away. "Such a cute kid."

"He's mine."

"Yours? You seem to be collecting a lot of nations lately." Despite his cheery smile, there was a coolness in Turkey's voice. "You've got the other Germanic nations, then the two Italy's, now Japan… my friend, Japan. My very good friend, Japan." Turkey didn't bother to stand, but sat, cross-legged on the floor where Germany had knocked him down. He leaned easily back on one hand and smirked up at Germany. "I'm welcomed in this house; Japan will confirm that. So sit with me and talk, child."

Germany glared. "I am hardly a child."

"You're nothing but a runny-nosed brat who grew too fast." Turkey waved a hand in the air, negligently. "I was ancient before you took your first steps, so, to me, you are a child. Now, sit down like a good child, and tell Uncle Turkey what's got everyone in such a state."

"State? What state? And you are NOT my uncle!" That title was only ever – and only when they were alone – used for Austria; Austria who had given him his first puppy and taught him to bake and had held him when he'd had nightmares. This stranger was nothing more than an invader as far as Germany was concerned and until he could speak with Japan on the matter… no. Wait. He did remember Japan mentioning Turkey. Mentioning him quite often. "I should tie you to a stake and let Lovino use your stomach for target practice."

The grumbled threat made Turkey laugh which, of course, only worsened Germany's mood. "Saying things like that only makes you look more like a kid. Sit and relax." His eyes glittered behind his mask. "You know I'm no real danger to you or your allies – not now."

True. While Turkey had once been a grand empire, his power had significantly diminished over the centuries. Still, Germany didn't sit. "Well, you can't stay here. Japan is busy and as this is his house - "

"I told you, I'm not here to see my friend. I'm here to see my patient. Sit down and let me see your head, foolish child. It still hurts, doesn't it? And it's been what? Two days, now? From what Japan said, it wasn't a horrible wound. Just a bloody cut. And I see you're still bandaged. Sit and let me look at it." He waved at the floor in front of him, but when Germany didn't sit, Turkey laughed louder than ever. "Are you afraid of me? Big, strong Germany with his lofty ambitions? Afraid of this old man?"

The wound did need to be looked after, Germany conceded. Though he wouldn't admit it, it did worry him. He'd been gravely wounded before, but such a small injury shouldn't be lingering so. And Turkey was well known and respected as a healer of skill as great as Ancient Greece had been and China was. There was no one better suited.  
Germany turned his head and bellowed, "Lovino!"

He didn't come running as Feliciano would have, but poked his head around the corner just enough to see what was going on. "What?"

"Get over here."

Lovino hesitated only a moment before he slunk, fully dressed, out from his hiding spot. He stood so that Germany was between himself and Turkey. Germany pulled out his pistol and pressed it into Lovino's hands. "Stand here," he took Lovino by the arm and moved him until he was standing next to Turkey. "He's going to examine my wound. If he attacks me, shot him in the head."

Lovino's eyes grew wide. "Now… just wait…"

"I know you can shoot."

"But what if I miss? You'll be right next to him and if I shoot you little brother will never forgive me, not that I care what he thinks! But he whines so much and I just know he'll cry, again, and this time he'll blame me! And if your head's still not well; shooting you can't do you any good. You might die!" Lovino was shaking, by then, though he kept Germany's gun pointed carefully at the ground and held his fingers well away from the trigger. "You die and I'll spit on your grave!"

It was just another case of Lovino getting himself worked up over nothing. Germany took Lovino by the shoulders and bent down far enough that he could look Lovino right in the eyes. "You won't accidentally shoot me. I won't die."

Lovino just shook all the harder and he scowled so darkly that he almost managed to hide the fear in his eyes. "I might shoot you on purpose."

While Lovino might run away if his fear overcame him, he wouldn't shoot Germany in the back. Germany knew that was so, because Lovino wasn't bad. He was angry and sad and felt so weak. He was undisciplined and spoiled. He was scared and bitter. Despite all of that, he wasn't bad. "You won't shoot me on purpose. There's nothing to be afraid of. You have the gun. You can blast his face off if you think he looks even a bit suspicious. I trust you."

For some reason that Germany didn't entirely understand, whatever he had said shocked Lovino into silence. He wiped his eyes with the heel of one hand, then gave Germany a sharp nod before he slipped a finger onto the trigger of the gun and stood just far enough out of the way that Turkey wouldn't be able to grab him if a fight did break out.

It felt downright wrong to have Turkey pawing at the back of his head, but Germany sat in front of the man and allowed him to do as he said he would. Once again, the bandage was unwrapped and he felt the stinging pain as the wound was inspected. To his credit, Turkey was far more gentle with his touch than Germany thought he would be.

"You're in trouble, child." Turkey rewrapped Germany's head and then gave Germany a light slap on the shoulder, signaling that he was done with the assessment. "That should be well-healed over by now."

"You think I don't know that?" Germany pushed himself away from Turkey and stood. A glance to Lovino showed that he was pale, but steady. His eyes and the muzzle of the gun were focused on Turkey with grave intensity. "Why don't you tell me how to heal it or why it isn't healing well?"

"Don't you have anything to smoke?" Turkey asked, abruptly. "Or drink? A coffee would be nice. Your sense of hospitality really is abysmal."

"I didn't ASK you to drop in!" Germany put a hand lightly on Lovino's arm and when Lovino finally drew himself out of his focus enough to look at him, Germany took the gun and told him, "You can go back to what you were doing. Good job, soldier."

Lovino flushed at the praise and scampered away as fast as he could. Not that Germany blamed him. To have only a few hours worth of training and then have an invader sneak into the house must have been nerve wracking, at the very least.

"And you," Germany scowled at Turkey, whom he felt was entirely too at ease in Japan's house and, therefore, needed to be scowled at. "Even if I had any cigarettes or any coffee, I certainly wouldn't give them to someone who invites himself over without even a word of warning."

"That brother of yours did a lousy job teaching you manners."

"They were never his strong point."

"Clearly. Your head… there isn't a way to heal it. You can keep it clean and wrapped and treat it with care, but that's about all. Something is hampering your overall health – something to do with your people. Your head won't heal until that something is dealt with." He peered up at Germany. "And your eyes are blood-shot. You aren't sleeping well. When did you last eat?"

Too long ago, now that Germany thought about it. How long had it been since he'd eaten well?

"As I thought." Turkey said when Germany didn't answer at once. He stood and stretched his arms over his head. "Japan is as efficient as ever and followed my instructions, well. Take it easy for a while. You heed my advice though," He put a hand to his mask, as if to ensure that it was still in its rightful place. "Look after your people. They are you. If you want to be strong and healthy, then they need to be strong and healthy. Don't rely too much on your BOSS to do it for you."

"That is his job."

Turkey was quiet for a long time. "Child, the BOSS of a nation is only human – small, weak, and fallible. Don't trust in him too deeply. After all," he pointed a finger at Germany's chest where, under his uniform, he wore the little star sewn to his shirt. "He makes you wear that mark, doesn't he? Then he yells at you because you wear it."

Germany felt himself go pale. It was supposed to be a secret. His BOSS was going to be so angry! "How… how did you know about that?"

"I'm old – not stupid. Have you figured out why he wants you to wear it?"

"It's a mark."

"Obviously. What's the mark for?"

"For some of my people."

Turkey leaned forward a little and whispered, "Why don't you take it off?"

"I can't do that!" Germany gasped, scandalized. "If my people must wear it, then I must wear it."

"You don't have to blindly obey. You are Germany. You are your land and your people. Him? He's only one mortal man. He'll be dead soon enough and dust not long after that. Take off the star."

"He's not only a man!" Germany protested. "You don't understand. I was almost dead after World War I. I came so close to death that I could nearly taste it. I could hardly move and I was alone." His mind flashed back to that day when he knew he'd lost that war, when he'd been face-down in the mud of a silent battlefield. The pain… then numbness… such overwhelming fear. "He saved me! My BOSS came along and he saved me and all of my people. I owe him my life. I owe him my loyalty and obedience. I owe him trust and I will not question him on such petty things as a simple star sewn to my shirt. He has reasons for what he does. He might not tell me his reasons, but he has them. All that he does is for my good, in the end. After all, why would he save me, only to hurt me?"

Turkey's feelings were well hidden behind his mask. "I see. You really are an innocent child. Well, if that's how you feel… I think I'll be on my way, then. You tell Japan that I was here. I'll come again when I'm more welcomed. Imagine! Such thanks that I get for coming so far! Tumbled not five minutes after arriving. I wasn't going to hurt the boy."

"He seemed to think you were." Germany held his gun tightly, still suspicious and more than a little upset from the questioning about his star. Truthfully, he didn't understand why he needed to wear it, but if his people were forced to wear it, then he would, too – even if he was just a touch worried because his BOSS wasn't explaining everything. "Was that all you came here for?"

"All?" Turkey laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "All? Was that ALL I came for? Child, you really have no concept of your importance, do you?"

Importance? He wasn't important. Germany knew quite well that he was just a soldier. His BOSS made very certain that Germany never forgot his place.

"Japan," Turkey went on, "is my friend. He is one of my very few friends and you hold a good deal of sway over him. He listens to you. He respects you. When you go into battle together, he stands at your side, certain that you will do all that you can to keep him safe, just as he will do for you. He trusts in you, believes in you. To put it simply – his safety depends on you. I have to make sure you stay healthy so that he won't be endangered. So… yes," Turkey nodded, solemnly. "Seeing to your wound was all I came here for." He gave a slight bow. "Have a good day."

"Good day to you, too." Germany stood at the door of Japan's house and watched until Turkey had gone from sight, but as he stood there, he couldn't entirely believe what Turkey had said. Germany wasn't important. He was a soldier – a simple soldier. He obeyed orders and did his very best to keep things in his house in order, but that was all. And Japan surely didn't depend on Germany, he was far older and had a great wealth of experience that Germany couldn't hope to match. As for Italy, well, neither of them had to rely on him. Lovino showed signs of becoming a capable, respected nation. And Feliciano, well… he could be great, if he wished to. Not as a solider, surely, but he could be great in other ways. And, Germany knew that once Lovino was decently trained, Feliciano would undoubtedly turn to him for protection. Or perhaps Feliciano would go to Japan.

He didn't want Feliciano to rely on anyone else… no! Selfish!

Germany went back into Japan's house and did as he'd done just a short time ago in Italy's house – he started locking doors and windows. Turkey may have turned out to be relatively harmless, but China and Russia lived nearby and America wasn't too far away, either. He went around twice to double check the locks and then went to the room that Japan had let him borrow to do the paperwork. There, huddled in a corner with his knees pulled up to his chest, Lovino sat in a corner of the room and glared as Germany. His arms were wrapped tightly around the boxing gloves Germany had given him, as if he would be stronger just by holding them.

"I wasn't scared!"

"You shouldn't lie to me. I may not be very smart, but I'm not an idiot."

Lovino started to tremble, but didn't take his eyes away from Germany. "Shoving a gun at me like that and saying you trust me? Trust me! I wanted him to attack you so bad!"

Germany blinked. "Why?"

"So I could shoot him! I really wanted to pull the trigger." Lovino's eyes were shining with angry tears. He tensed and Germany glanced around to make certain that there was nothing breakable in arms reach. Lovino started hitting his fists against the floor on either side on his legs. Over and over, he beat the floor, breathing raggedly and his face turning red with agitation.

Germany, who remembered how Lovino had hurt his hand by punching a wall, got down on the floor and grabbed Lovino's hands. It was easy enough to stop him from hitting the ground, it didn't stop Lovino's tantrum. He threw his head back and hit his head against the wall so violently that Germany was afraid for him and yanked Lovino away from the wall. Germany pulled Lovino onto his lap and wrapped his arms around Lovino, pinning his arms against him. The only thing Lovino could move was his head and then he could only hit it against Germany's chest – surely softer than a wall.

"Leave me alone! Stop it! Leave me alone!" Lovino shouted at the top of his lungs.

Germany ignored the yelling as well as the thrashing and twisting, but Germany held Lovino tight. When the fight seemed to ease away from Lovino, Germany asked,  
"Are you calm, yet?'

"Yeah, yeah. Let go."

Hesitantly, Germany let go of his hold. As soon as he did, Lovino squirmed away. He picked up his fallen boxing gloves and, again, held them to his chest, like a child holding a doll. They sat in silence for a time until Lovino got himself together.

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Why not?" Lovino asked, not looking at Germany. "It's not like I'm hurting someone. It's only me."

"That's enough of a reason." Germany sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "I think I need to get you a punching bag so you'll have something to hit when you get angry. You don't want to upset Feliciano, do you? He'll cry if he sees you hurting yourself." It was a bit of a dirty trick, but Germany was bright enough to use what weapons he had. Feliciano was definitely Lovino's weak spot. "And if you truly want to be strong, then you need to take care of yourself. Hurting yourself makes you weaker." He gestured roughly to Lovino's hands. "Your hands are going to be sore for a bit – we'll have to postpone your next boxing lesson."

Lovino looked stricken. "It's all Turkey's fault!"

"He didn't make you hit the floor."

"I need a drink! You brought beer, didn't you?"

"I thought you didn't like beer."

"I'll like it for today."

Germany saw no reason not to share his beer, so he left Lovino alone and spent the rest of the morning working on his paperwork. He barely looked up from his paperwork when he heard Japan and Feliciano return, but he did, almost without thinking about it, put a hand to his chest. The tomato ring was just where it always was, safe under his shirt. With the promise he'd made to Hungary oddly fresh in his memory, Germany drew the ring out and let it rest against the outside of his shirt.

Feliciano bound into the room with a package under one arm. Germany, when he turned to face Feliciano, barely noticed the package. Feliciano was a rainbow. From head-to-toe he was dressed in all imaginable colors. He wore one of the elaborate kimono's that Japan was so fond of and it was covered in hundreds of multi-colored butterflies. Reds and greens and yellows and orange and purple… Germany felt like his breath had been stolen away.

"Look! Look!" Feliciano held his arms out at his sides, dropping the package, and spun in a circle. "Isn't it pretty? Japan bought it for me! I think it's really great, but the shoes are kind of funny." He hiked up the hem of the kimono to show off the sandals he wore. "It's so soft – Japan said that it's real silk. Do you like it?"

"Yes." Germany blinked and put a hand to his chest where the tomato ring lay. How fitting, he thought, that Japan would find something to show Feliciano off so splendidly. If they were going to be lovers, then it was only right that he should buy such rich gifts for Feliciano. "Very pretty. Beautiful."

Feliciano bent over to scoop up his package and held it out to Germany. "I'm so glad! Look, I got one for you, too. You should go put it on. I think…" He hesitated for only a moment. "I think big brother will like it on you."

"Me? Why- ?" He broke off abruptly when Lovino, three sheets to the wind, staggered in with an empty, glass beer bottle in one hand.

"Hey," Lovino slurred. "Your beer's rubbish."

Feliciano went to Lovino and poked his cheek with a finger. "Big brother? You sound funny."

"And you look funny." Lovino poked Feliciano on the nose. "You gots my face."

Feliciano wrinkled his nose. "Ew! You smell like Germany's beer!"

"And you smell like Germany's wurst." He burst out laughing hysterically. He stopped so suddenly that it was jarring. He shook his finger at Germany. "If that masked turnip shows up again, I'm gonna rip his ears off and throw them in the sea." He belched, loudly.

"Turnip?" Feliciano asked, puzzled.

Solemnly, Lovino told him, "Not allowed to swear. Get soapy mouths for swearing. I wanted to. That turnip deserves to get sworn at. That jerk! He grabbed me, once. I was real little." Lovino's eyes lightened and he leaned against the wall, looking away, as if there was something that only he could see. "Spain came, you know. All dressed in his fine armor… he was shining in the sunlight. Turkey was so much bigger than he was and he fought… for me. Just for me." Lovino gave a small, shy smile at the memory as he stared into midair. "He was strong and bright, all valor and goodness. He fought to keep me safe and he got hurt doing it, too, but he didn't care." Lovino's smile faded and he swallowed hard, as if it pained him. "I was so happy that he came for me. And now that…" His words faded away.

Germany asked, "How much of my beer have you drunk?"

"Not enough." Lovino giggled and then suddenly looked like he'd cry. He sniffled. "I don't like this. I feel yucky."

Being nicely tipsy, obviously, made a childish Italian.

Feliciano hugged Lovino and didn't let go, as if he were afraid that Lovino would fall without him. "Why were you drinking? You hate it when people drink."

"But I got scared and angry and I wanted to forget it and Spain drinks and he never remembers anything," Lovino whined. Fat tears slid down his cheeks. "He got drunk and he didn't even remember! That night. Said he didn't know why I was angry. Stupid, stupid Spain." He leaned against Feliciano and closed his eyes. "He could hardly stand up and he was laughing and his laughing shouldn't be scary."

And then Lovino was bawling. He rushed at Germany and Germany suddenly found himself with an armful of soggy Italian that was NOT Feliciano.

Germany patted Lovino's back and waited as patiently as he could for the crying to lessen, but it didn't. In fact, Lovino kept sobbing for such a long time that Germany started to worry for him. Lovino dropped the beer bottle and didn't so much as flinch when it clanked loudly on the floor and rolled away. He kept his face pressed against Germany's shoulder and his hands clenched at Germany's shirtsleeves. Germany felt the tears soak through his shirt. Lovino began to gasp, as if he couldn't breathe because he was crying so hard and he started to shake.

Naturally, Lovino's distress panicked Feliciano. Poor Feliciano tried to comfort Lovino with hugs and stroking his arms and even a kiss to the temple. He begged Lovino not to cry and told him that everything would be alright. None of it did any good and Feliciano ended up crying in Germany's arms, too.

Germany, who prided himself on always being prepared for whatever emergency might pop up, did the only logical thing he could think of. He held Feliciano and Lovino tightly and bellowed, "Japan!"

"No! Don't tell!" Lovino struck Germany on the chest, even as he kept crying. He seemed to be trying to talk, but he couldn't. His breathing got more and more ragged, the more he cried. His legs went out from under him and Germany ended up lowering both Lovino and Feliciano to the floor as gently as he could.

When Japan arrived, he took in the scene with a glance, then left the room and returned a moment later with a glass of water. "Romano-kun?" He sat on his knees next to them and gently patted Lovino's cheek. "You need to take a drink. It will help you calm down." It took a bit of encouragement, but Japan managed to coax Lovino off Germany and had him take a few sips of water which did seem to help. "I think this has been a rough day for you."

Lovino shook his head and held the glass with both hands. "Bad day. Bad night. Bad week. Bad life. I hate him!" He slung back the rest of the water and gulped it down. Then he looked at his lap and his lips started to quiver as he tried to fight back more tears. "Why… I don't understand."

Ever sensitive, Japan took the glass from Lovino and set it aside. He took Lovino's hands and held them. "Spain can't touch you, here. My shores are far from his land and his power. My house is well-guarded. No matter how he hurt you, it is over, now. You can stay in my house forever, if you wish. You are safe here -safe to rest and think and decide what you wish to do without the world pressing at you."

Lovino stared at Japan while he was speaking. "Rest? I'm so tired. Always tired. There's always fighting and I'm always scared." He suddenly lay down and used Japan's lap as a pillow. "I like your house. It's quiet."

On any other circumstance, Japan would have been mortified to have been used as a pillow. However, Germany held up the empty beer bottle for Japan to see and pointed at Lovino. Then he pantomimed chugging the empty bottle. Japan almost smiled and nodded his understanding. He continued patting Lovino's back. "Why don't we get you to bed, then? Time for a good, long sleep."

"Don't want to sleep. He was drunk, then. I think I'm drunk." He gave a pitiful sort of giggle and raised a hand up to wipe at his wet face. "He went out to drink and when he came back he got in my bed." Lovino sniffled. "He never did that, before. It was dark and maybe he was being stupid because he was drunk, but he woke me up and I was scared." Lovino pressed his face into Japan's lap. "He's not supposed to do that! Not supposed to scare me! Supposed to be safe with him."

"And you didn't feel safe when he got in your bed?" Japan asked, softly.

Suddenly, Germany remembered Lovino's accusation on the night he'd gone to Italy's house to help with their tangled hair. When he'd started to get into their bed so he could help them more easily, Lovino had accused him of being just like Spain. Lovino's reaction made a good deal more sense, now.

"He always takes care of me. Protects me. 'Love you, Lovi. Let me cuddle, just a little. You love me, Lovi?' He kept touching…" Lovino started to cry, again. "I was scared and it was dark and I didn't know what to do. I was scared… so scared."

Japan had always had a very good 'empty' expression. No matter what he felt, he could always keep it under control. This time, however, there were sparks of anger dancing in his eyes. "Did Spain invade you, Romano-kun?"

He'd denied it when Germany had asked him, but as he was so drunk and talkative, he surely wouldn't deny the truth, now.

"No." Lovino nuzzled into Japan's lap, bringing a bright blush to Japan's face. "I cried. And then I kicked him in the family jewels. He fell asleep and drooled on my pillow." Lovino closed his eyes and muttered, "Damned 'Tonio." Then drifted to sleep.

Germany, scowling so darkly that he may as well have had a thundercloud hanging over his head, took a deep breath. "Japan… Kiku. Please, forgive my poor manners, but would you mind playing host to Feliciano and Lovino for another day?"

"It would be my pleasure, but why?"

Germany stood and pulled out his pistol from its holster. He gave it a quick check to see that it as loaded. "I need to have a word with Spain."

"Wait." Japan gently eased Lovino onto the floor. "I would be honored if you would allow me to go in your place."

Germany raised an eyebrow. "You wish to speak with Spain about this situation?"

"If you go, then I think you may not be able to stop yourself from killing Spain. It is my belief that Romano-kun would not appreciate that, despite what he just confessed."

Japan did have a point, Germany had to admit. He didn't really intend to have a nice, civilized conversation. His plan lay more along the lines of threats, blood, and a lot of screaming on Spain's part. He had a feeling that it would relieve a good deal of his anxiety to see Spain as a blubbering mess on the ground.

The idea of Japan going on such a mission, to discuss such an offense against their ally, was troubling – and not just because it would deny Germany the satisfaction of shooting Spain in the face. Japan was even smaller than Italy and he was rather delicate. If Spain had, as Germany suspected, reverted to his older, more violent ways, then Japan could very well be in danger. He was such a soft-spoken, gentile person. Of course, Germany knew that Japan was a respected warrior, but still… he was small and cute and, as Lovino could testify, Spain wasn't to be trusted around small, cute nations.

"You do trust me, don't you, Germany-san?"

"Of course."

"Then trust me with this task. You get Romano-kun cleaned up and put him to bed. I will speak with Spain." The lack of an honorific – either a 'san' or 'kun' wasn't lost on Germany. When Germany said nothing, for a moment, Japan stepped closer to him and lightly touched his sleeve. "Please? Italy is MY ally, as well, and I would be most grateful if I were allowed to speak in his defense."

It would be insulting to forbid Japan to do as he wished. "Spain is not weak." Germany reached a hand up to rub at his head. "My head still rings from that blow he dealt me. You must be careful."

Japan smiled, softly. "I am always careful. And, as I said, I do not intend to fight him. If you will pardon me, I think I will change into more appropriate clothing for this meeting."

When Japan had left the room, Germany picked Lovino up. Together, he and a strangely quiet Feliciano put Lovino to bed to let him sleep the spirits off. When that was done, they returned to Japan's front porch just in time to see Japan walking down the street. "I'm sure he won't be long," Germany said to reassure Feliciano, who would undoubtedly be worried. "He's stronger than he looks and… Feliciano?" He turned around, but found that he was alone as Feliciano had dashed out of the house and towards Japan. "Feliciano? Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to go with Japan," Feliciano announced, cheerily.

"After what Spain did to your brother? You are not!"

"Don't worry. Spain won't do it, again."

"Feliciano, don't be silly. Hey!" Germany shouted when Feliciano ignored him and raced away. "Get back here!"

"I have to catch up with Japan! Bye-bye! Take good care of big brother!"

Germany was torn. He wanted so badly to chase Feliciano down and drag him back, but Lovino was drunk and vulnerable and, for all that Germany knew, Turkey was still lurking about. He couldn't leave Lovino unprotected. Feliciano would be with Japan; he'd be safe. They'd both be safe. His decision made, Germany shouted, "Stay with Japan and do what you're told!"

Feliciano waved, again, and then was gone, running as fast as he could.

Germany shook his head. He just KNEW it was going to end badly. When he heard furious cursing followed by the rather unpleasant sound of retching from where he'd left Lovino, he sighed. "The things I do for my allies." Again, the retching. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

 

To be continued…


	8. A Little Talk

Chapter 8: A Little Talk

Feliciano-

Feliciano watched as Japan went ahead of him. Despite how Germany had yelled after him when he'd run after Japan, Japan clearly hadn't heard and hadn't looked back. Feliciano was confident that Japan had no idea Feliciano was even following him. He kept at a distance and, as they walked, kept to a slower pace so that by the time he reached the area between the border of Russia and China's houses, Japan had long since gone out of sight. Standing there, in a place still warm, but with a hint of chill on the wind, Feliciano smiled and turned towards Russia's house.

"You should tell Germany," Feliciano had told Lovino when Lovino had told him about the phone call he'd gotten from Russia. Russia wanted to be friends with them and he'd wanted to talk to Germany. "You said you'd give him the message."

Lovino made a rude noise. "I'm waiting for the right time."

"There is no right time, silly. Keeping it a secret won't make it easier. Trust me, I know – Germany doesn't like secrets."

"Well, would you want to be told that Russia wants to be friends? He'll get angry."

"Probably, but not at you. Just tell him about the phone call. He'll be angrier if you just leave it." It had taken a good deal of urging, but Lovino had eventually gone to Germany and told him about the phone call from Russia. Germany hadn't been happy, but, as Feliciano had known, he hadn't been mad at Lovino. Rather, he'd gone straight away to give Russia a call and exchange what he called 'polite threats' or, to use another term, diplomacy. When it was done, Germany had another headache and gave both Feliciano and Lovino a sour look. "I'd best not catch either of you two getting involved with Russia without me or Japan being around. Understand?"

At the time, Feliciano had readily agreed. At the time, he hadn't known that Lovino had been hurt. He would apologize to Germany for breaking his word after everything was settled.  
Standing at the border of Russia's house, Feliciano cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Russia!" He'd never been to Russia's house, but just standing at the boundary line, he did take a moment to admire the landscape. He would be the first person to admit that Russia was hugely scary, but Russia's house was beautiful. He liked the endless expanse of trees and the bright blue sky. He'd like to paint it, someday. Feliciano was no happier than Lovino with the knowledge that Russia wanted to become friends with them, but in the end, it wasn't up to them. It was their boss' decision. In this one case, it seemed that their decision might benefit Feliciano. He shouted out, "Hey, Russia! Are you home? Russia! Oh, Mister Russia!"

It didn't take long for Russia to appear. Feliciano felt his innards start to squirm with fear and all thoughts of the pretty scenery vanished. There was something awful about Russia. He was too big – far bigger than Germany – and his smile was just a little too… fixed. It was as if he was wearing a mask and Feliciano didn't like it when he couldn't tell what a person was thinking. Germany was angry, a lot, but Feliciano could tell when Germany was stressed or just aggravated. And if he looked closely at Germany's eyes, he could also tell when Germany was happy. Russia, though, Russia just had some moments when there was a flash of something not-quite-right would show in his expression. It was something angry and dark and powerfully lonely that didn't belong on that smiling face.

Though Russia seemed to be coming from a far distance he took no more than a few minutes to reach the border and raised a hand in greeting. "Good evening, little Italy. How nice to see you. I like getting visitors."

Feliciano felt like throwing up from fear. Still, he smiled up at Russia. "I like visiting people, too. My brother told me that you talked to him on the phone the other day. He said we might get to be friends."

Russia's sweet smile broadened and he grabbed hold of the ends of his scarf with both hands, balling his hands into fists and tugging in his excitement. "It's true! It's true! I'm so happy. I can go to your house to play and you and your brother can always come to my house. I think you will like my other friends. You have to be careful with my little Latvia, though. He's small and cries easily. And my Lithuania is such a good cook – you can cook with him. And… and…" Russia got himself so wound up that he could hardly speak. He stomped one of his big feet and suddenly threw his arms up into the air. "It's going to be so nice to have a big family! Don't you think?"

"I like big families. It's always more fun with more people to play with, isn't it?" Feliciano made certain to stay well out of arms reach. "And I think my brother said that you'd like to see our gardens? We have some nice ones, but brother's gardens are better than mine. He has a real touch when it comes to growing things. You like plants and flowers, don't you?"

Russia nodded, eagerly. "I like all kinds of flowers. Will little Romano let me see his garden? I promise I'll be very careful. I won't break anything. Promise."

"Why, he'd love to have you see it." Feliciano thought, 'Forgive me, big brother'. "He loves showing it off to anyone who likes flowers. Oh! Maybe not. I don't know if he can."

The disappointment in Russia's big eyes was almost heartbreaking. His whole body seemed to slump. "No? Why not? I know I'm big, but I meant what I said – I won't break anything. I won't step on his flowers or break his things."

"It's not that. But, well… big brother is feeling sort of sad right now. It seems that someone did something that hurt his feelings."

Russia's smile faded and his eyebrows drew together. "That's not nice. We shouldn't hurt each other's feelings. That's not nice at all. Who hurt his feelings?"

"That's nothing for you to worry about." Feliciano waved a hand, as if to dismiss Russia's concern. "He's my brother, so I'm going to have a talk with the person who hurt him."

"You?" Russia's eyes widened before he smiled, again. "But you are as small as your brother. Whoever hurt him will hurt you, too."

Feliciano pouted. "If someone hurt Miss Ukraine or Miss Belarus wouldn't you want to defend them yourself?"

The idea of his sisters being hurt by someone was clearly a shock to Russia. He frowned and then scowled. His face went pale and his eyes narrowed. "No one better hurt my sisters... or my Baltics."

"And that's just how I feel about my big brother. I think if you were hurt, Miss Ukraine and Miss Belarus would want to defend you. I wouldn't want to get your sisters upset. Why, if someone tries to hurt you, Miss Ukraine has that pitchfork of hers and I heard that Miss Belarus carries a big knife."

"My sisters are playful. They like to carry their toys around."

Feliciano nodded. "That's why I'm here, really. You see, I want to defend my big brother, but I don't have any toys. I was wondering if I could borrow yours. I'll be really careful with it and I promise to bring it straight back."

 

Spain-

 

Alone. Spain sat alone at his kitchen table with his head resting on his crossed arms and wearing the same baffled expression he'd worn since Italy had hung up on him, earlier. How could it have happened? Spain closed his eyes. He could almost hear Romano bustling around in the kitchen, chattering as he worked. He liked to talk and often it was gossip from the nearby village.

"… the baby's due soon. A few more days, she said, and boy, she just can't wait. Her poor feet are so swollen and she looks so tired. Thank God, I'm not female. I couldn't take it! And of course just as she's saying that, Senor Rogriguez rushes in and starts shouting that some of the kids have been lifting from his gardens and I told him he should just get a dog, but… are you even listening?"

Romano spent a good deal of time with the people of the village for though he was quick to anger, he was also quick with a quiet kindness or two.

"Don't touch that! Those cookies are for the Valero family. Mama Valero isn't feeling well and the children are worried, so… oh, just get out of my kitchen!"

"You can make your own lunch today. Don't you look at me like that. Senor Herandez broke his leg and can't sell his fruit in the market today. Helping him is more important than making food for you. You can fend for yourself today." 

Romano had never made much of it, but he'd always done such small gestures, little things that endeared him to the people of the village without him even being aware of it.  
And now, Romano was gone. He hadn't made any effort at all to contact Spain. Maybe Italy had been right when they'd spoken on the telephone, earlier. That horrible conversation kept running through Spain's mind.

"Germany's in love with Lovino and I think Lovino's starting to like him, too. I know – surprise, huh?"

It had come as no great shock to him that Germany had fallen in love with Romano. Who wouldn't love Romano, after all? It was impossible not to love clever, witty Romano who had such a fiery passion about everything. But Germany’s version of love sounded terrible! If Germany had been making Romano cry and forced Italy to stay away while he did it, then surely there was something nefarious going on. He wouldn't put it passed Germany to take advantage of a sweet guy like Romano. And if he was making Romano cry, if he was hurting little Romano, then there was little Spain could do about it. He wasn’t as strong as he’d once been.

Spain opened his eyes and stood, abruptly. His hands were shaking. He hadn't rested well since Romano had left. Oh, it had been alright when he'd just been going to visit Italy, but that night when he'd turned his back on Spain and chosen to go with Germany – that had hurt. Spain paced the kitchen as he'd done many times since he'd returned home and then went outside to Romano's garden.

Romano's tomatoes were beautiful. The bushes were tall and dark green, tied up at the stalks to tall sticks to keep them from falling over. Amidst the leafy greenery, small tomatoes, just starting to turn from green to red could be seen here and there. If Romano had been at home, he would have undoubtedly been in his garden. Spain had never been quite sure why Romano loved his garden so dearly, but if there was ever a time that he needed to speak to Romano, then all he had to do was look in the garden. Romano spoke to the plants, too. Not just his beloved tomatoes, but he spoke to everything. Spain had listened, once, when Romano hadn't known that Spain was about. He'd whispered and laughed softly as he pulled weeds or trimmed this or that. He would sing, on occasion.

How could Spain not remember something he'd done that had upset Romano so greatly? He remembered very clearly when France had arrived for their evening out. Times were tough and a little relaxation was always welcomed. It was no big deal. It wasn't anything he hadn't done hundreds of times before and the unhappy look that Romano had given him before he left the house had been the same unhappy look he always had when Spain went out to drink. He didn't remember much after the drinking started.

"I don't remember." The bar they'd gone to had smelled of smoke, he remembered that much. It had been loud and France had started dancing with two women at the same time. The night would have been more fun had Prussia been with them, but, considering the war… some things just weren't possible. So they'd had fun before parting ways and Spain made his way back to his house.

And then he'd woken up on the floor of Romano's bedroom, alone.

"I wanna go see little brother," Romano had said when Spain walked into the kitchen that morning. "Haven't seen him for a while and I told him I'd go visit. He gets upset if he doesn't see me once in a while. I think some work needs to be done on the house and if I don't do it, he'll go to that potato-bastard of his. So… do you mind?"

Spain's hangover was monstrous and, honestly, he'd barely heard anything that Romano had said. The throbbing headache was like a hammer striking between his eyes. "Si. Why not?" Later, when the hangover had ebbed away and he realized that he'd sent Romano off, alone, he had a sudden flashback to that awful day when Turkey had almost stolen Romano away. Of course he'd chased after his adorable little henchman back then and he’d been so proud to be the one to defend Romano.

As he'd rushed to Italy’s home, Spain tried to push away those thoughts of what Turkey had tried to do long ago. When he'd gotten to Italy's house and he'd seen both of the Italy brothers and Germany all in the bed together, he'd been shocked. It certainly hadn't been something that he'd expect of Germany. But the shock had worn off and he'd wanted to help when he'd seen that the Italy brothers had somehow gotten their hairs tangled. He'd been so excited to see Romano safe and sound that he'd eagerly tried to get on the bed to help. Romano's reaction to that had been a little worse than his usual temper tantrum, but…

No. It hadn't been just a little worse… it had been entirely different. Romano had never before looked at him with such… fear. Fear? How could that be? Even if he dismissed Germany and Italy's accusations, how he could he dismiss that fear in Romano's eyes?

The ringing telephone drew Spain away from his thoughts and back to the present. He looked around, once more, at Romano’s garden before it occurred to him that it could be Romano trying to reach him and he dashed to answer it. "Romano? Lovi?"

"Sorry, my dear, but I'm going to have to disappoint you."

France. Spain moaned. "Have you heard from Romano? Anything?"

"No. You sound tired. Have you been sleeping?"

"How can I sleep when Romano’s out there alone? He's never had to take care of himself; he doesn't know the first thing about the world!" Spain put a hand over his eyes. It was no time to panic. "I know what you'll say. He's not alone. He's with Germany, but… it's Germany!"

France chuckled. "I can't say I'm honestly surprised that Romano is staying away from you - not after what you told me."

If France had stuck a knife in Spain's belly, it couldn't have hurt worse. "How can you say that?"

"Let's review, shall we? Bear in mind, I only know what you told me, but I'm sure my imagination can fill in the details. You allowed Romano to visit his brother and, when you started to miss him too much, you crept over in the middle of the night - "

"You make me sound like a stalker."

"You are a stalker, but fine. You went over to visit, but neglected to give anyone warning. When you arrived and prowled silently through the dark house when you were fairly certain that both of the brothers would be sound asleep you were surprised to find that Romano wasn't peacefully sleeping in his bed where you could drool over him while you fantasized about what you would like to do with… sorry. How can I rephrase that? You were surprised that Romano wasn't sleeping in his bed where you could spend the rest of the night admiring his sleeping form in a move only motivated by your innocent affection for him. Instead, you found a most unexpected scene – Germany in bed with our dear Italy brothers. Big, strong, macho Germany. He was ever so gently fondling those delightfully sensitive hair curls of Romano and Italy. The brothers were red-faced, nearly moaning from his ministrations… oh." France made a funny little noise. "You didn't know that Germany could be so gentle with those big hands of his." Again, that funny noise. "He had taken off his shoes and his muscled arms were bare. Romano and Italy were so docile with him. They leaned against one another and seemed to rest in Germany's arms."

"France. You're panting. Stop it. And I never said - "

"They weren't trying to escape and that look on Romano's face… you barely noticed Veneziano when you saw the sweat beading on Romano's forehead, his mouth half-opened as he gasped for air, and his eyes only barely opened. How you'd longed to see such a look on his face."

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to; I know you very well. Let's see, what happened after that? Oh, yes. You decided that you wanted to 'help' and your Romano threw a hissy fit because you started to creep into bed with him. Later, when you snuck back and attacked Germany when his back was turned, your Romano didn't take your bloody rampage in his kitchen kindly. Then, when you did finally have a chance to talk to him, did you whisper sweetly under the moonlight to him? Did you purr in his ear how much you missed him and how you wanted him to go home with you? No. I remember, now. You told him you wanted to be with him AND his brother."

"But he was worried I was going to take him away from Veneziano. I thought it would be good if I took them both."

"And still, Romano reacted so poorly, so ungraciously, as to throw his lot in with Germany. It's unbelievable."

Spain was quiet a moment. "You're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

Sigh. "Yes. Spain, I love you like a brother, you know that, but there are times when I can't believe how thick you are. You said that you were going to bring Italy back with you and, I quote, "I'll treat Feliciano real sweet. He'll forget about Germany in no time." Do you really think that was a wise thing to say?"

"It did seem to upset Romano a trifle."

"I can't imagine why. You've been mooning over your Romano for years. Do you even know how you look at him? The idea of you trying to get into his bed to 'help' him with his hair and, later saying such things about his brother… ugg. You probably looked like some sex-crazed maniac."

Horrified that his friend would say something like that, Spain demanded, "Why would you say that?"

"Because you always look like a sex-crazed maniac when Romano is around. Honestly, I think he must have some sort of musk that turns your brain off. That aside, don't you worry about your Romano. I'm confident that he will come back to you. He just needs a little rest to sort out himself. Staying with Germany is probably enough to make him want to go screaming home in no time. Before he does, however, the Allies and I have been discussing your situation. This whole ordeal could work in our advantage."

Spain sat heavily on the floor and cradled the telephone receiver against his ear. "Advantage? What advantage? I don't see how my house being so quiet can be an advantage. It shouldn't be so quiet! I can hear the paint peeling and the plumbing creek and that's just not right. Come on! You're supposed to help me. I want my Romano."

France chuckled. "Now, you just need to calm down a little. You can be pretty sure he's safe – Germany has taken excellent care of Italy, after all. What you should be thinking about is how to use their new found… ah… relationship. Their alliance. It's well-known that Germany listens to his allies. His trust… it's like that of a child. He trusts his allies, it seems, simply because they are his allies. Why not give Romano a few suggestions and let him carry those ideas back to Germany? This war could be over all the sooner."

"Ideas? What kind of ideas?" Spain frowned, as though France could see it over the phone.

"Oh, where and when to attack. When to hold back. Maybe your Romano could - "

Aghast, Spain spluttered, "Romano can't do anything like that! He's sweet and innocent! Such sly things are beyond him. He wouldn't know how to tell a lie if his life depended on it. Besides, what would he do if Germany found out he was some kind of double-agent? You know Germany's a brute; he could hurt my sweet little henchman." Inspired by the awful image of Romano beaten to a bloody mess, Spain jumped to his feet and paced the room as well as the telephone's cord would allow. "When I went to visit Italy's house, that Germany went and threw me out – as if he had more of a right to be there than I did! And then, when I did get a chance to talk to Romano alone, Germany jumped out of nowhere and attacked me! How could Romano do this? He's always been such a good, loyal little henchman… if you ignore the head butts and punching and the kicks to my face – oh! How I miss those savage little feet against my face!"

France was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes, you scare me. Look, just think about the possibilities. I know you're fond of him and that you think the world revolves around his bad-tempered scowl, but this war can't be allowed to go on forever. Think of all the people dying. Think of the soldiers who are crippled."

"But Romano just isn't devious."

Then, there was a blade at his throat. Spain went instantly still and he slipped into a flashback.

He could hear a volley of gunshots and smell the powder of the cannons. The ship's deck rocked to the rhythm of the sea and England, wearing that bright red coat with the gold trim and the feathered hat he'd always been so fond of, was standing above him. England laughed so wickedly, his bright eyes burning with passion and fire and an awful, fevered look of blood-lust. In one hand he held his wooden-handled pistol and in the other, a broad cutlass which rested against Spain's throat. The salty sea air… screams of dying men…

"Excuse me."

Spain blinked at the sound of the voice and was suddenly back on the floor of his kitchen. The blade was still at his throat, but it was slim and didn't have the bulk of England's favorite cutlass.

A small hand plucked the telephone receiver out of Spain's hand. "Forgive this interruption, France-san, but Spain is going to be busy for a little while. Maybe he'll talk to you later. Good day."

The telephone was hung up and the blade withdrawn from Spain's neck and he looked up to find, looming over him, Japan. Funny. He'd never thought that Japan would be the type that could loom over anyone. But there he was. His hair had been pulled back, away from his face and he wore an outfit such as Spain hadn't seen in years and, even then, only in old drawings. He wore long, flowing trousers and a sleeveless vest. On his feet, he wore wooden sandals and in his hands he held a long, slim sword. Japan was, once again, samurai. With his face set like ice, he stared down at Spain for a long, tense moment before he said, "I wish a word with you." He spoke quietly in voice that seemed too controlled, too calm. "I confess to being rather cross."

Spain kept his eyes on the sword. "Well, that's no good, now is it?” He’d heard tales of the superb quality of Japan’s katanas. “Can't have you being cross. Why don't you tell me why you're cross and we can fix it, yes?" Where had he put his axe?

Without lowering his sword even an inch, Japan asked, "Why did you hurt Romano-kun?"

It was enough to make Spain want to scream. "Oh, come on! Look, I really don't know why everyone thinks I went and hurt my Romano. Even Italy said I'd hurt him. He also told me that Germany had made my Romano cry. What did he do to my Romano?"

Japan stood as still as a statue. "If Romano-kun wished for me to know, I feel certain that he would have told me. He is doing quite well, actually. He behaves well for Germany-san and he's learning how to box. Germany-san will teach him how to be a great soldier. Romano-kun was so very happy today. Then he got drunk and told us why he is so upset with you."

"Then tell me! Romano is as dear to me as my own heart, but he gets worked up about the little things."

"Little things?" Japan's soft voice was, somehow, more dreadful than any amount of yelling or threats could have been and it made Spain look at him more closely. Japan was small, true, but he wasn't weak. He stood with dreadful stillness, his sword never once shaking as he held it before him. His eyes, those solemn, deep eyes that held so much within, were fixed on Spain as surely as a cat would fixate on a mouse. "What you did in your drunken daze is nothing short of dishonorable." Japan's eyes narrowed. In the blink of an eye, Japan surged forward, his sword pointed straight at Spain's gut. At the last minute, Japan stopped, his sword mere inches from piercing Spain's stomach. "Allow me to refresh your tipsy memory." Japan drew close enough that Spain could easily hear the hissed, furious whisper. "You were drunk. You crept into his bed while he was sleeping. You 'touched' him. You scared him. You made him cry. That's why he's staying with Germany – he's afraid of you."

Spain felt himself go light-headed. "No," he muttered, faintly. "I – I wouldn't. I wouldn't hurt him."

Japan said softly, "’Love you, Lovi. Let me cuddle, just a little. You love me, Lovi?’ Do you remember any of that?"

"No."

"Those were your words to him and those words are what he parroted back to us. No matter what your feelings or intentions, you are no longer suitable to be Romano's guardian. A guardian needs to be… safe. Romano needs to have someone that he can turn to when he is frightened. Who is he to turn to if it's his guardian that he's frightened of?"

"But… there must be a mistake. I wouldn't… I just wouldn't!"

"Are you saying that Romano-kun has lied to us?"

Spain was silent. Of course Romano hadn't lied – he never lied. "Did he say that I," Spain paused, swallowing the rising bile in his throat. "Did he say that I invaded him?"

"No. He stopped you and escaped." Japan, still holding Spain at sword point, stood a little stiffer and raised his voice. "I declare now that Italia Romano-kun is no longer under the guardianship of Spain." He jabbed the end of his sword a little closer to Spain's stomach when he opened his mouth to protest. "He will, until he is considered capable of caring for himself in a responsible manner, be subject to the rule and protection of Germany-san and myself."

"No!" Spain couldn't contain himself, despite Japan's sword. "He belongs with me! You and Germany don't know him. You don't know what to do when he gets scared or what kind of food he likes. You don't know that he has nightmares during thunderstorms and you… you don't know him at all! How can you take care of him?"

"Germany and I work well together and will easily design an agreement that will ensure Italia Romano’s protection." Japan said. "What would you have done to Romano-kun in your drunken state if he hadn't defended himself? What if he hadn't gone to see his brother that morning, but had just run away in the night? What if he'd run into a nation that wished to conquer him? You wouldn't have even known that he'd left the house." Japan shook his head, slightly. "In your less-than-aware condition you showed Romano-kun very clearly how you feel for him. Can you swear that you will never frighten him, again?"

Spain shook his head. "I would never hurt him."

"But you did frighten him. You know that he is not yet a fighter and you know that he is far weaker than yourself. Yet, you nearly took advantage of him. Have you done such things in the past? Have you touched without permission? How often has Romano-kun cried himself to sleep because he had nowhere else to go?"

"No! Never. He would have told me. He would have said something." But Spain did make a habit of going to drink with his friends and there had been more than one night that he didn't entirely remember everything. But Romano was so outspoken, so very blunt… surely he would have given some hint if Spain had ever behaved poorly. Wouldn't he?

Japan didn't look convinced. Honestly, Spain wasn't entirely convinced, either.

"The deed is done. He no longer sees you as a safe person he can turn to. It was Germany-san who went to him and helped him and it was Germany-san who saved him when you went to his house in the dead of the night. Germany-san is now his safe person, whether you approve or not."

Something in Spain's chest tightened. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. He wasn't strong enough to fight Germany or Japan for Romano. Perhaps when the war was over, something might be arranged, but at that moment, he would be crushed in a confrontation.

With an easy move, Japan sheathed his sword. He watched Spain carefully for a moment before he said, "I would like to believe that what you did was done only because drink had addled your senses. Perhaps, if you were to write a very nice letter to Romano-kun he might be inclined to at least listen to you. Explain yourself and apologize. Be honest. We shall see how things progress from there. You may address that letter to either Germany-san or myself. We will ensure that it gets into his hands. Should he tell us that he wishes to meet with you, a meeting will be held in either my house or Germany-san's and with one, or both, of us supervising. This sort of incident will not be permitted to reoccur. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly." Spain was willing to do most anything to see his Romano, again. "But, please… Italy said that Germany…ah." Spain licked his lips, struggling to get the hard question out. "Italy said that Germany and my Romano would be married. Do you know - ?"

"They would make a striking couple, wouldn't they?"

Spain let out a wail.

"However," Japan went on. "I would not dream of spreading rumors about either Romano-kun or Germany-san. If you would like the truth, then I suggest you reevaluate your relationship with Romano-kun and decide how important he is to you. Then, when you have yourself sorted out, you may ask him about his relationship with Germany-san." Japan took a step forward and though he no longer held his sword, Spain backed away. "You will have to earn our trust before Germany-san and I allow you to associate freely with Romano-kun. More importantly, you will have to earn Romano-kun's trust."

It was a nightmare. Spain felt sick. He put his hands to his stomach and bowed his head. "I… I understand. Please, tell Romano I'll write. I swear I'll never drink again. He's safe with me." Spain's eyes were burning. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. "On my honor, I'll do anything to make him feel safe."

There was a moment of silence until Japan gave a curt nod and spun on his heel. He strode out of Spain's house without another word.

Shaking with his desperation and having no idea what to say that could possibly make up for what he'd almost done, Spain rushed to the doorway and called after Japan, "Tell Romano I love him!"

Japan didn't reply. In moments, he was gone and Spain was left alone. He broke down, then. With his arms wrapped around himself, he shook violently as he cried. His legs gave out and he slumped to the floor. His head was filled with Romano, his dear little Romano. He had no doubts – he had treated Romano foully. Even France thought that he'd behaved Romano terribly. Spain swore that he would be more mindful, he would dedicate himself to Romano's happiness! He was worn and weak when he finally pulled himself back up to his feet. It was only then that he saw Veneziano, with a familiar looking metal pipe in his hands, standing only a few feet away.

"Hello, Spain." Italy smiled, sweetly. "I'm glad that I caught you. Is Japan around?"

"No." Spain wiped at his face and took a deep breath. He didn't want to distress Italy by showing how upset he was. "He just left."

"Good. That's very good." Italy kept grinning. "I really need to have a little talk with you and I think it's best if Japan isn't here for this talk. He's very sensitive, you know." Italy slapped the pipe he held hard against the palm of his hand and started slowly moving towards Spain. Strangely, his smirk grew broader and his eyes sparked with a frightening glee. "We need to talk about how you treat my big brother."

 

To be continued…


	9. The Twit

A/N: Readers, this chapter gets serious near the end

Chapter 9: The Twit

After Feliciano had run off with Japan, Germany easily found Lovino. It would have been hard not to hear the retching. He gathered up Lovino, protesting in a slurred voice, and washed him up before putting him to bed. Lovino was asleep in moments. That done, Germany sat in a chair next to Lovino's bed and, sitting in the darkness, he folded his hands on his lap. There was no more paperwork to do and there wasn't enough light to read by. So he closed his eyes and started going back over the events of the past few days. He would keep Lovino, he decided. There was certain paperwork to be filled out and signed and there would be token gifts to be given, but Lovino would stay in his house. With more training, he would be a valuable ally. Training was the key… training fixed everything.

Flashback-

"Keep you arm straight," Prussia chided. "You want me to knock that sword out of your hand?"

"It's not a sword," Little Germany frowned, swinging his tiny practice sword. "It's wood; it's just a toy."

"Don't get fresh." With a swing of his own wooden sword, Prussia knocked Germany back a step. "You gotta train, kid, if you ever want to be strong! Don't you want to be strong? This world isn't a place for the weak. The weak get stepped on and kicked and don't have any fun at all because how can you have fun if you're not fighting?"

Back and forth they went with the wooden swords that Prussia had worked so hard to make for them. At the edge of their little training area, Hungary, with her long hair braided and hanging over one shoulder, walked slowly around them. Every now and again, she would call out her own comments.

"Faster, Germany. Move your feet." Or she would shout at Prussia for not teaching the right way or being too easy on Germany "How's he going to learn with you molly-coddling him?" 

Austria never attended the training sessions. He would wait at home with tea and his fancy little cakes and, when the rest of them arrived at home, he'd take Germany into the kitchen where he would wash Germany's face and check him over for bruises and scrapes and warn him against using the bad language that he'd undoubtedly heard from both Prussia and Hungary.

End Flashback-

Germany woke with a started, jerking out of his dream so suddenly that it took him a moment to realize that he'd fallen asleep. He shook his head to wake himself, but all that got him was a throbbing pain in his head. He gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, balling his hands into fists as he waited for the pain to ease. It took some time, but when the pain began to let up, he put a hand to the back of his bandaged head. Just a light touch made him hiss and wince from the pain. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see blood on his fingers.

Still bleeding.

He would deny it with his last breath if anyone asked him, but Germany was more than a little worried about it. He was sturdy and his BOSS was always telling him that his people were the smartest and strongest people in the whole world. Surely, no injury should have lasted so long. There was no point in puzzling it over. Such an effort would be nothing but a waste of time and he had things to do and people to take care of.

There was a sudden, hard knocking on the front door and it made Germany rush from the room, hurrying to answer it before the noise woke Lovino. The way his head felt, the last thing Germany wanted was a sleepy, cranky Lovino getting himself into trouble. Finding Prussia with his arms crossed and a pouty sort of scowl on his face, was about the last things Germany was expecting to find when he opened the front door.

Prussia grinned wickedly when he saw Germany, though his eyes very obviously went to Germany's bandaged head. "And how's my baby brother?"

"Hello, Prussia. What do you need?"

"Do I need to have a reason to call on my favorite baby brother?" Prussia gave Germany a slap on the arm before he slipped by Germany and into Japan's house. "No, of course I don't. I just thought I'd drop by. You know, I heard something. Just a rumor, I guess, but it had me a little worried."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Usually. That's got nothing to do with this rumor, though. Not that you should believe rumors unless, of course, I'm the one telling them. Now I heard from Hungary, who heard from our little Liechtenstein, who heard it from that trigger-happy brother of hers, who heard it from Finland, who heard from Denmark, who heard it from England when they went out drinking – you know how he talks when he's drunk – that France was all upset because someone small and cute with big brown eyes and an adorable little curl of hair went and did bad, bad things to my buddy Spain." The wicked smile never slipped. "You wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Germany took a moment to let the long stream of words work their way past his headache before he could understand what was being said. Then he shook his head. Someone hurting Spain... of course. "You're being foolish. South Italy is right here in this house. He hasn't had time to do anything silly."

"There are two brown-eyed cuties that we know."

"Are you talking about Japan?"

At that, Prussia scowled. "Now you're just being difficult. I'm talking about your Feli. What's this I hear about him turning up at Spain's house and using a pipe on him? Are you letting that kid hang about with Russia? I warned you about him!"

"What? Of course not. I told him to keep well away from Russia." And why would Prussia even think that Feliciano would do such a thing as attacking someone? Feliciano was far too gentle, too kind to raise his hand in anger against anyone.

"Yeah. And Feli always does what he's told, does he? Maybe we're talking about different Feli's."

"Look, is that all you wanted?" Germany rubbed his head and closed his eyes. Such absurd things to suggest about Feliciano…

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, little mister cranky pants."

Germany flushed. "You can leave now. You weren't invited."

"Wait! Oh, just wait. Geeze, where did your sense of humor go? Oh, yeah. You haven't got one. Anyhow, that wasn't all that I came for. I got to your house a few hours ago, thinking that I might have a bite to eat, maybe get a clean pair of boots, or a drink to help along my fighting spirit and do I find my industrious little brother building more weapons or organizing his troops or anything else suitably militaristic? No. I find Hungary lording over the place as if she owned it. What's going on?"

So Germany told him everything and, in his wariness and pain, didn't watch his words carefully enough and suddenly had Prussia yelling at him, demanding to know exactly how he was injured and what he was doing to take care of himself. "If I thought you were going to be so careless - "

"It was your friend Spain that did it!"

"So what? He attacks lots of people! You're supposed to be able to take care of yourself when I'm not around."

With a groan, Germany sighed. "Look, I'm fine. It's just taking a little while to heal because of the stress. I'm on vacation now, so the stress will ease and everything will turn out well."

"You've been under stress since you were born; that's your normal state. Ah!" Prussia exclaimed. "You haven't been eating, again, have you? I told you to stop skipping meals! And sleeping? Have you been sleeping?"

"You sound like an old mother hen."

"Cluck, cluck. Have you been sleeping?"

"When there is time."

"No. Not just when there's time. You have to…"

Rolling his eyes, Germany tried to look firm. "You can stop worrying, now. Everything is under control. I am quite well," It wasn't exactly a lie. "And I will be returning home, shortly. As for Hungary, she is doing me a favor by staying at my house while I'm gone, so be polite to her."

"Polite? To that - "

"If you're not polite, you know what she'll do to you. Now I have to go. There are things to do."

"Hey! Don't ignore me, you brat!"

"I have listened and now I have things to do." And if Prussia yelled any louder, Germany was fairly certain his head would explode. "If you want to stay, Japan will be home shortly and you can ask him."

"No, no. No time for visiting. There's fighting to be done and my people are waiting for me. I just wanted to check on you and to see about what happened to Spain." He gave Germany a spontaneous hug and slapped him on the back. "Try not to kill my friends – I've only got two. Now, you take care of yourself. Give Feli and Japan kisses for me and," he suddenly reached up and seized Germany by the back of his neck. He pulled Germany down and planted a noisy kiss on Germany's forehead, just below the bandage, then released him. "Be safe, little brother." He put a hand on Germany's chest, not on the tomato ring necklace, but just over the spot where the star on his shirt was hidden. "Hard times are coming."

"How do you know?"

There was a strange look in Prussia's eyes, something That Germany didn't recall ever seeing there. Pity. Prussia stepped back a little. "This is war, little brother, and if I know nothing else, I know war. Believe me – this is all going to get worse. I can feel… deep in my gut I can feel the darkness coming." He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "The darkness comes in fire and poisoned air and in the weeping of innocents." Then his eyes sprung open and the frighteningly grave atmosphere was gone as if it had never been. The haunted, solemn look in his eyes lifted and Prussia grinned and laughed that maniacal cackle of his. "See you on the battlefield."

Then, he was gone.

Germany sighed. Just once, he wished his brother would make some kind of logical sense. He went back to Lovino and found him still asleep and silent, curled onto his side with his whole body pulled into a tight ball. His breathing was slow and steady, peaceful.

Standing about doing nothing was certainly the best way to drive Germany mad. He couldn't stand being idle. So, in the near darkness of the bedroom, he looked around for something to do. He wished he hadn't finished his paperwork. Maybe he should give Hungary a call just to check on Aster; it should be almost time, after all. Or he could polish his boots – he hadn't done that chore in hours. As he was mulling over tasks to productively occupy himself, he frowned at the room around him, noticing little details that had somehow escaped him, before.

Feliciano's bed had been made but… there were wrinkles! One side of the blankets and bed sheets were hanging longer than the other side. And his bag… Germany sighed in despair at the mess Feliciano had made of that. It was simply unacceptable; it wouldn't do.

So Germany remade the bed, pulling and smoothing until the sheets and then the blanket were perfectly flat and tucked in exactly right. Then he frowned and pulled the whole bed apart, folding the blanket into a neat square and setting it on a chair before he pulled the bed linens off. Those he put aside to be washed before he went to get clean linens. When the bed was, again, properly made, Germany sat cross-legged on the floor where he dumped out the contents of Feliciano's bag and started to repack. He refolded all the clothes and put them neatly back in the bag in the correct order - trousers on the bottom and then shirts on top. He tucked socks into tidy little balls and stuck those to one side and then put shoes on the top. He frowned disapprovingly at the shoes. They were fancy leather dress shoes and looked very stiff. Impractical, at best, but at least they were polished. He made a mental note to buy some running shoes for Feliciano.

If he was going to run away from everything, he may as well have comfortable shoes to run in.

Done at last, Germany zipped the bag closed, but then noticed the kimono that Feliciano had bought, earlier. It hung on a hanger on the wall and looked almost like some kind of artwork. It was hardly practical. Made of silk and with such intricate hand-worked details, it must have cost a fortune. It couldn't be used in battle or even for cleaning the house. Strangely, Germany couldn't begrudge Feliciano for buying it. He wanted to fold it up and pack it, but he worried that if he tried to fold it that he would manage to damaging it, somehow. He'd never had anything made of silk, so he didn't know how to deal with the finery.

Germany stood and went to the kimono. He reached out a hand and gingerly ran his fingers down the front of it. The image of Feliciano wearing it, smiling brightly, suddenly danced before his eyes.

Lovino groaned and caught Germany's attention, making him snatch his hand away from Feliciano's kimono. He stood there for only a moment, watching Lovino toss and turn, before deciding that it would be best for his stress level and Lovino's temper if Lovino were to have a few minutes alone to adjust to his hangover without being watched. He quietly left the bedroom.

There were plenty of other things Germany could be doing, after all. Japan had many books that Germany had never read and he would have to call his BOSS, too. He'd only scheduled two days of vacation time and no one had really had any time to relax. Just one more day, he decided. And if his BOSS objected to the extension, he could always go back alone and leave the others in Japan's care. Lovino hadn't gotten much time to see all of Japan's gardens and Germany knew very well that Feliciano wanted to see the museums. Well, that could all be settled once Japan and Feliciano returned.

Lovino-

Lovino woke with a painfully throbbing head and the taste of vomit in his mouth. He groaned and rolled over. His whole body hurt. Worse than any of that was the fact that he remembered. Not only did he remember the almost numbing fear that had overcome him when he'd stepped out of the shower and seen Turkey standing in the hall, but he remembered… oh… he remembered that he'd told everyone why he'd run from Spain. He felt himself flush and pulled the blanket over his head. He squeezed his eyes closed, but the shocked faces of Japan and Germany and – worst of all! – his little brother kept staring at him in shock.

Like a child, Lovino stayed curled under the blanket while the shame washed over him. Everyone knew. His sweet little brother probably didn't understand what had happened, but Japan and Germany… both so serious and strong… how weak he must seem to them! How he'd wanted to impress Feliciano's friends! With all the attention he'd been getting from them, he'd started to feel almost special for the first time in his life.

Japan had been so considerate, so kind. When they'd ridden together in the car, Japan had actually listened to what he said and asked questions. He laughed at Lovino's jokes and he was so polite even when Lovino's manners slipped. He had manners, of course – Miss Belgium had taught him well – but, normally, he didn't see much use for them. Japan, however, was so proper that it felt only right to give him the respect of using manners when speaking with him. Who wouldn't want Japan to like them? He was small and pretty and so very smart and Lovino found that when he spoke to Japan, he ended up feeling not quite so worthless as he usually did.

Then there was Germany…

Lovino curled himself into a ball under the blanket.

What he wouldn't have given to have Germany's respect! But that was clearly impossible after the humiliating scene Lovino had made while drunk. Germany had seen him in tears and bawling like a brat. He'd held Lovino when he started throwing up. How could Germany ever respect him after all that? Lovino had been doing his best to behave well since Germany had taken him into his house. He'd been brave when Germany had given him the gun and told him to stand guard over Turkey and he hadn't thrown much of a fit when he'd seen that Hungary. And the boxing lesson! That punch! Oh, he would remember that instant until the day he died! Pride! For the first time he'd felt real pride in himself and, even better, Feliciano had been so proud of him. Japan had patted him on the back and he'd even caught a glimpse of Germany smiling at him. He wanted so badly to repeat that moment just to be able to feel the amazingly warm glow that pride had given him.

While the respect of others was important to Lovino, there was one person, above all others, that he wished to impress - Feliciano. If he could only earn his little brother's respect, then surely he could die happy.

Laboriously, Lovino got himself out of his bed and dressed in the half-darkness. He had never drunk so much in his life. He would occasionally have wine with his meals and, when he'd been younger, he'd snuck a few sips of something awful that Spain had left laying around, but he'd never drunk so much to make him insensible. It was only after he'd started for the bedroom door that he noticed Feliciano's bed was empty. The sight of the empty bed - clearly it hadn't been slept in – made him freeze.

Probably sleeping with Germany, again.

Familiar feelings bubbled up – anger and jealously and grief. He couldn't help it. For all that he admired Germany, he couldn't stop the ugly feelings when he thought of how close Feliciano was with Germany. Lovino had never been close to Feliciano, though it was no fault of theirs, but he'd always dreamed of a time when Feliciano would look to him for protection and when they finally had half-a-chance to be together, Feliciano had already found his protector in Germany.

It just wasn't fair.

Nothing was ever fair.

But, Lovino reflected as he finished dressing, fairness had never really been apart of his life. And he did want Feliciano to be happy. If it took Germany to make Feliciano happy…

He was all prepared to be in good spirits for Feliciano's sake when he peeked into the room where Germany had taken to sleeping, but frowned when he didn't find even a sign of his little brother. In fact, the blankets on the floor that Germany had used were folded neatly and set in a corner of the room as if they hadn't been used at all. At one side of the room, were two great sliding doors opened up onto a low porch and, just beyond that, a fine garden that captured Lovino's attention at once. Germany sat on that low porch. Beside him, on the porch, were several books while he held another. His back was as ridged as ever, but his hands were shaking.

A quiet moment passed while Lovino waited to see if Germany would notice him, but when he saw Germany's head start to tilt forward before Germany shook himself and straighten his back a little more in an effort to keep himself awake, Lovino stepped out onto the porch with him and asked, "Where's little brother?"

"He went out with Japan. They'll be back soon, I expect." Germany's voice was soft and tired and his eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles around them. Had he slept at all the previous night? "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Of course I'm fine." His head was still screaming at him and he couldn't stop the nasty queasy feeling of indignity he felt when he thought of how he'd behaved. To try to escape that feeling, he hopped off the porch and slipped away into the garden.

The flowers in Japan's garden were beautiful and healthy. Wandering through the garden made something inside of Lovino spark. It was as if his blood came alive just by being close to the plants, but that was no new thing. He'd always felt a special connection to… well… life. He stopped his wanderings when he happened upon a plant that he was unfamiliar with. He'd never seen such a deep blue blossom and the leaves were tinged with pink at the edges. Gently, he ran his fingertips over the leaves and leaned close to take in the scent.  
He could feel Germany watching him, but when he glanced back, Germany was concentrating on his book, again.

He owed Germany.

It was an uncomfortable realization. He didn't like owing anyone, but Germany took care of Feliciano and he hadn't taken any liberties when he'd had Feliciano and Lovino in such an awkward spot when he'd untangled their hair and…

Lovino sighed. He owed Germany a lot. A glance over his shoulder made his scowl deepen. As Lovino had little means to repay Germany - for, really, he had almost nothing – he did the only thing he could think of. As he sat by the pretty little flower, he started to sing. It was just a lullaby, something he'd heard once, long ago.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm rowing a boat." Lovino sneered without thinking much about the idea that he was trying to do something nice for Germany. "What do you think? I'm singing. Flowers grow better when you sing to them. I thought everyone knew that. Geeze, even stupid little brother knows that. Of course, I had to teach him, but at least he does know it. Ya gotta sing to the plants or they just won't grow right."

Germany raised an eyebrow and frowned at a potted plant on Japan's porch. "Is that so?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You stare much harder and they'll wilt. Just relax." He started to sing, again, and while he did, he kept half an eye on Germany. After a moment, Germany did return to his book. As soon as he did, Lovino lowered his voice and drifted closer to porch where Germany sat. After a few minutes, he dropped down at the side of a small patch of orange flowers and just sat there and sang. As he did, Germany's eyes began to close. His head seemed to grow heavier and began tilting towards his lap. Several times Germany shook himself and rubbed his face to wake himself up. Eventually, however, Germany's weariness and Lovino's voice won. Germany fell fast asleep, his head slumped forward while the rest of him, somehow, remained upright.

That done, Lovino went in search of food. He didn't even get out of the room before his eyes fell on Germany's suitcase. On the floor, just next to the suitcase, were two pairs of boxing gloves.

Lovino put on his boxing gloves and smiled at them. It was awkward putting them on himself and he couldn't lace them properly, but when he finally had them on they did look splendid! He rushed to a mirror to look at himself and was so proud of his reflection. Lovino flexed his arms, but there was barely any muscle to show for it. Slowly, he was starting to lose that pleasantly warm feeling of pride. If only his shoulders weren't so narrow… and his arms skinny…

Lovino sighed, dispirited. If only he wasn't so scrawny. If he were bigger, then maybe he'd get some respect. Germany got a lot of respect and look how big he was.

The ringing telephone drew his attention away from his miserable self-pity and, knowing that Germany was sound asleep, he quickly tossed the boxing gloves back to where he'd found them before he raced for the phone. He snatched the receiver off the phone with his customary, "What?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment before, "Who is this? Put Germany on the telephone."

Well, that's rude enough! "This is the guy who's gonna turn your ugly mug into mush if you don't learn how to talk decent to folk. Who do you think you are to make demands?"

"Now see here…"

"No. You see here, Germany's a very busy nation and he doesn't have time to talk to just anyone. He sure doesn't have time to bother with rude people what don't even have manners enough to introduce themselves and just start snapping orders here and there. And I'll have you know that I don't jump to anyone's orders, you…" and on he went. The idea that some random caller would wake Germany when Lovino had been so kind and generous and thoughtful as to put him to sleep irritated him to no end. He concluded his sharp tirade with a snort and a, "You should know to call at better times than when people are so busy."

The caller said, rather tightly, "You tell Germany that I am waiting to speak with him."

"You still haven't told me your name, twit."

After a flurry of growled curses and threats in German, the name was given. Lovino, blinked and then scowled. "You think I'm gonna do you any favors when you talk like that to me? Crazy son of a -" He hung up the phone before he said what he really wanted to say and grinned at it, quite please - a whole conversation without a single curse. 'Good job, me.'

"Who was that?" Germany, still bleary-eyed from sleep, stood in the hall and ran both hands through his mussed hair, pushing it away from his face. When Lovino off-handedly told him the name he'd been given, Germany came fully awake. His eyes went wide and his hands balled into fists. "That was my BOSS!"

"Well, he doesn't know how to talk nice to people, does he? I mean, really! He's got horrible manners."

Germany, dumbfounded, just started, then he slapped his own forehead and muttered something. "Go start something for lunch. Japan and your brother should be back soon."

"I don't…"

"Go, now." Germany picked up the telephone and dialed. Before Lovino left the room, he heard Germany saying, "I'm here, sir. Yes. No. Sir, that person is undergoing training and we've only just started. He hasn't had time to learn the basics of international politics, as yet. Yes, sir, it won't happen again. You have my word. I'm very sorry, sir."

From where he listened, Lovino flushed hotly. Germany was apologizing for him. Germany was embarrassed… embarrassed about him? Lovino knew very well that the other countries laughed at him and his brother. He knew that everyone called them fools and cowards, but to be embarrassed just because Lovino had answered the telephone was too much.

He stomped the rest of the way to the kitchen, intent on finding something absolutely foul to make for Germany to eat. Instantly, Lovino cringed at the idea of deliberately making bad food. He just couldn't do it. No, he would make something fantastically wonderful, so marvelous that Germany would never again think that he was an embarrassment. Unfortunately, nothing in Japan's kitchen was anything like what Lovino was used to - the food was altogether different. He only stayed in there a moment before he left, meaning to tell Germany that he couldn't possibly make anything decent to eat without tomatoes.

Germany was still at the telephone and, if anything, seemed more uptight than before. "But I did tell you that I was going to Japan's house, sir," Germany said, sounding puzzled. "You must have forgotten. Sir, I… no." His back visibly stiffened. "Sir, it was necessary to…" Germany broke off, again. He seemed to be standing at attention even though his BOSS couldn't possibly see him. More and more, as he listened to whatever his BOSS was saying, his whole body tensed to the point that it actually looked painful. "Now? But I told them… I'm not arguing, sir. I wouldn't. It's just that… I promised. I gave my word. Yes. I understand. I'll be there shortly." He seemed to be moving more slowly when he hung up the telephone. He muttered, "I just wanted a few days… ah, well. Lovino!"

"Don't yell at me!"

Germany jumped and spun around. "How long have you been there?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping! You wanted food for everyone, but there wasn't anything I wanted to use in the kitchen and I don't have money to buy things from Japan's markets and I don't even know what half the things in his kitchen are. I didn't come out here to spy on you and if you think your conversations with your BOSS are so interesting that I'd want to waste my time hanging about just to listen in, then you're a lot more deluded than those Allies are always making you out to be!"

Germany blinked. "Deluded?"

"Their word, not mine."

"Just mind your tone. Now, go pack your things. We need to go."

"Go where? Why?"

"I have some work to do. It shouldn't take too long."

"What about little brother?"

"Japan will look after him. Go on. I need to make some preparations."

Germany-

Once Lovino had unhappily gone to do as he had been told, Germany leaned his back against a wall and closed his eyes. He just knew he should have let Japan, Feliciano, and Lovino go on vacation without him. If he hadn't gone, then he wouldn't be recalled early and spoil Lovino's vacation, but he couldn't leave Lovino behind alone and he had no idea when Japan and Feliciano would return. Feliciano would be unhappy when he returned and found that Lovino was gone and Japan would be unhappy that his guests had left. Everyone would have been enjoying their vacation much more if he'd just stayed behind.

Still, what was done was done.

Next time, he would stay behind. At the moment, however, he would deal with the situation. With some spare paper, Germany wrote, in his precise handwriting:

To Feliciano and Kiku,  
I have been recalled to my house. I am taking Lovino with me. Meet us there.  
Germany

Feliciano would, undoubtedly, complain that it was too short to be called a proper letter. Too brief, too curt. Germany re-read what he'd written. It said exactly what he needed it to say, just as a letter should. So he shrugged and decided to teach Feliciano how to write letters that didn't babble on about everything under the sun. Perhaps, if Japan had no more pressing business, he would take Feliciano and Lovino back to his home for a more restful vacation while Germany dealt with whatever his BOSS wanted. Germany left the letter on the kitchen table where he was fairly certain that either Japan or Feliciano would find it and then, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, set about a whirlwind cleaning spree of Japan's house. There wasn't much to clean as Japan wasn't the sort to let his home get messy, but Lovino managed to complain all the same when Germany told him to sweep the kitchen floor.

"I hate cleaning." He stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen and eyeing the broom Germany had handed him as if it were some alien thing that he wasn't quite sure he could trust.

Germany ignored the griping and kept scrubbing at the kitchen counter.

"It's clean, you know." Lovino had inched a little closer and scowled at the counter. "You don't have to keep at it like you're trying to kill it."

With a sigh, Germany turned to face Lovino. "Japan was very kind to let us stay in his home. Will you now insult him by leaving a mess for him to clean up?"

Lovino's scowl didn't lessen a bit, but he did put more effort into his work. Like his fighting abilities, Germany noticed, Lovino's cleaning skills left much to be desired. He tried. Germany had to give him credit for that – Lovino did try. It was just that nothing he tried to help with was ever done exactly right. It was enough to make Germany shake his head.  
At Germany's head shaking, Lovino shuffled his feet a little and still kept his chin defiantly high in the face of Germany's obvious disapproval. "I'm just not good at cleaning."

With a dismissive snort, Germany said, "Cleaning does not require an inborn talent. To clean well you only need practice." Germany made a mental note to put Lovino in charge of bed-making and bed-making only as soon as they got home. He would make beds until he could get it absolutely perfect. He had to start somewhere and once he was able to make a bed that would pass inspection, Germany would give him a different chore to focus on.

Germany looked around and was entirely dissatisfied, not only with Lovino's attempts, but with his own. Another few hours and it would have looked presentable. He didn't have hours, though. His BOSS didn't like to be kept waiting. "Put the cleaning supplies away," Germany told Lovino. "We'll leave as soon as I get my bag. It's not an entirely wasted situation, I suppose. At least this will be a good excuse to allow your brother and Japan to have some more time alone." It shouldn't hurt, thinking of such things! The idea of his dear friends finding happiness shouldn't hurt him. He was such a terrible friend.

"What for?" Lovino asked as he put the broom back into the closet.

"They are in love."

"What? Wait! Just wait!" Lovino waved both hands in front of his face, then stared at Germany with a suspiciously raised eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Little brother and… Japan?"

"It is quite clear."

"Clear as mud."

"They have been spending quite a bit of time together and Feliciano was very eager to go sight-seeing with him alone, if you'll remember." Germany turned away from Lovino and pushed the awful pain aside. "If Feliciano hasn't mentioned it to you, then he undoubtedly feels it is too private a subject, at the moment." Germany glanced at his wrist watch. "We need to get going."

Lovino blinked, then, to Germany's puzzlement, sat down right where he'd been standing and crossed his arms. "I'm not moving from this spot 'till you start making sense 'cause I know I didn't go mad over night and I'm not still drunk!"

"You drank enough." Germany scowled. "Enough to make your tongue very loose."

"What do you… oh." His eyes widened and he turned such a bright shade of red that Germany was afraid that he might faint. "Now look you – no reason for you to go bringing up all that. I was just babbling 'cause of the drink and there ain't no person anywhere who's gonna take serious anything a drunk says! Drink makes a person stupid and loud and," Lovino's eyes grew wide and he suddenly trembled. "It don't make them forget!" With the fearsome, sudden rage Germany was growing accustomed to, Lovino grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled. "Drinking didn't make him forget at all!"

"Lovino, let go." Germany took Lovino's wrists and squeezed just enough to get Lovino's attention. "Let go of your hair. You'll hurt yourself!"

"I don't care! I don't care! He lied!" Lovino released his hair and stared up at Germany with furious, teary eyes. "Don't you get it? He lied! Drinking doesn't make people forget! He only pretended that he didn't know what he'd done. He… he…" Lovino shoulders shook and his lips trembled so violently that he became unable to speak. Abruptly, he stood up. Once around the room, then twice he strode. His fists shook at his sides and he didn't seem to know what to do with himself.

"Lovino," Germany said, hesitantly. "Do you need to box?"

"Yes! Now! Boxing now!"

They went down to Japan's back yard where Germany helped Lovino get the boxing gloves on before he put on his own. Lovino went at him at once. Just like the first time, it was really no great challenge for Germany. Lovino attacked with fury and passion while Germany blocked him and just gave him time to work out his wrath. Even when the worst of it was over, Lovino was panting and exhausted, doing nothing more than taking pointless swings at Germany. Then it stopped and Lovino stood with his head lowered and his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Germany could hear Lovino's labored breathing.

"He acted all innocent – like nothing had happened!" Lovino sniffed. "I thought he just didn't remember; he said he didn't know why I was upset. But he did remember. He remembered and he didn't care because it didn't matter to him!"

"Many people react differently to alcohol. It is altogether possible that Spain honestly didn't recall what happened that night. That is no excuse for his behavior, but an explanation. That aside, you should understand that there is no reason for all of this panic. I suppose I can understand why you are upset, but you don't have to be any longer."

"I… I don't?"

"No. Now that I know what is happening I will fix it." It was just another duty to add to his list. Scrub floor, read training manual, kill Spain… "I promise - Spain won't be a difficulty for you anymore. Now, it's time to go."

Once back at Germany's house, Hungary was the first one to greet them, a fact that Germany found more than a little worrying. "Where are the dogs?" They were always first out of the door when he arrived home.

Hungary laughed lightly and gave his arm a pat. "Aster is resting and I sent the other two off with Austria to run off some energy."

Austria wasn't likely to be happy about that.

"You're home in time, though. I expect it'll be only a few days before she's ready." Hungary stepped aside to allow Germany and Lovino in. "Aster's in your office if you want to see her."

"I can't spare much time." Attending his BOSS was important, but Aster… she needed him. He was dimly aware of Hungary speaking quietly to Lovino as he walked away from them.

Just as Hungary had said, Aster slept in her corner of Germany's office on a pile of blankets. She raised her head when Germany sat cross-legged beside her and stroked her head. "Soon," he muttered. "It won't be long and then think of all the noise and mess." He chuckled, despite himself, and scratched Aster behind her ears. "Just think of the state of my house with puppies running around. Well… Feliciano will be pleased, I think."

After an affectionate lick on Germany's hand, Aster put her head back down and went to sleep. Germany indulged in a moment of the silence and peace. He realized, then, that it had been a great long time since he'd been able to just sit and rest. That awareness made him suddenly very tired. With a shake of his head to rid himself of such useless thoughts, he stood and strode purposefully back to the entrance hall. Oddly, neither Hungary nor Lovino were where he'd left them. Instead, Lovino was leaning against the wall in the corner of the parlor while Hungary, a few paces away, spoke quietly to him. At that moment, Lovino didn't look friendly, but he wasn't yelling or swearing and Germany took that as a good sign. He wanted all of his allies to be comfortable with one another and it appeared that such a thing would take time with Lovino.

Germany said nothing to them and went to wash up and change into a fresh, pressed uniform. As he changed, he unwrapped the bandage from his head. With the use of a small, hand-held mirror, he was able to examine his wound for the first time in the bathroom mirror. Really… it wasn't that bad. Not nearly so bad as everyone had made him think. He put on his hat and felt quite satisfied that his BOSS would notice nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes were a trifle bloodshot and he was, perhaps, just a touch pale, but he didn't believe that his BOSS would notice his state.

On his way out of the house, he peeked in, again, at Lovino and Hungary. Hungary had moved a bit closer to Lovino, who still watched her guardedly. She smiled sweetly and stood with her hands behind her back, unthreateningly. It was progress, if only a little.

"I will return shortly," Germany announced. "Mind the house."

Hungary nodded, pleasantly. "South Italy and I were just starting to have a nice conversation. Perhaps," she looked shyly at Lovino. "You'd like to see Aster? She'll be a mother, soon."

Lovino's eyes lit up, brilliantly.

Germany wasn't a bit surprised at Lovino's reaction. Despite how anxious he'd been upon first meeting the dogs, Lovino had obviously been won over by how wonderful Germany's dogs were. Germany thought back to how he'd found Lovino and Aster in the rose bushes. As always, Aster knew best.

Interrupting Germany's thoughts, Lovino asked, "When are you coming back?"

"As soon as I'm able to. Don't worry. Hungary is very strong. She will look after you."

A short time later, Germany arrived at the office of his BOSS and knocked.

Prussia would have laughed at him. Knocking? What sort of nation knocked on the door of his BOSS? Asking permission to enter? It was laughable. Even England, who prided himself on his manners and etiquette, wouldn't have thought about asking permission to enter any room within his domain.

"He thinks himself above you," Prussia had once snarled after meeting Germany's BOSS for the first time. "I don't like him."

"He saved me."

"He's using you. I'm on your side, always, but don't trust that human too deeply."

A familiar voice from inside the office called out, "Come in." Germany's BOSS was alone when Germany entered, but that was no surprise. His BOSS always met with him alone. It was almost as if he didn't want anyone else to meet Germany.

With his boots sounding too loud against the wooden floor, Germany marched in, closed the door behind him and then went to stand at ridged attention in front of his BOSS' desk.  
The man was short with small eyes and dark hair. For all that he was not impressive to look at there was something about him that had drawn Germany to him when he'd first come to Germany's attention. There was something strong in his eyes, a power in the way he spoke to Germany's people. Germany had so admired his BOSS when he'd started coming around. When Germany had been so poor after the war, when he'd been so weak and so alone, the man who would later become his BOSS had turned up and he'd spoken so kindly to Germany. He'd helped get Germany back on his feet. Thanks to advice from his BOSS, Germany was strong enough to defend himself and his allies, but…

It was a secret. A deep secret that he'd never told anyone.

The secret that he kept so carefully guarded was that he didn't actually like his BOSS. He was grateful to his BOSS and he would always do as he was told, but when it came right down to it, the fact was that he didn't really like the man. He knew many nations who liked their BOSS'. Prussia adored his Fritz and both Austria and Hungary had been very fond of their Maria Theresa. Perhaps there was something wrong with him as he didn't like his BOSS.

He had in the beginning. Germany had liked the man well enough to let him become his BOSS, but, lately… something was wrong. He had the awful suspicion that his BOSS was keeping something from him. But he had helped fix so many awful problems and Germany didn't want to be weak, again. It was even more important now than it had been after the previous war; he had so many people to protect. Everyone depended on him to be strong and he wouldn't let them down.

Germany's BOSS sat with his hands folded and, as soon as he gave a wave of his hand to allow Germany to stand at ease, stood and started to slowly pace the room. "Reports are favorable. The war is going well, at this point. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir. Our soldiers are first class and they fight with courage and honor. There are always set backs, but we are steadily gaining ground."

"Excellent." He stopped his pacing at his office window and looked out at the city beyond. "Soon… soon they will all fall before me; no nation will withstand my might. Any that dare think themselves above - or even equal to - my nation will be destroyed."

"Any but our allies."

Germany's BOSS abruptly stopped pacing and looked at him, sharply. "What was that?"

"Our allies. They are our equals but we won't destroy them."

"You are fond of them?" Germany's BOSS regarded him coolly. Then he smiled and went back to sit behind his desk. "I promise that your allies will be treated in the manner they deserve. Now, I have a task I want you to handle."

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. Such a good soldier. We're in the midst of a terrible war but you're strong… our people are strong. They're getting stronger. Every day Germans become stronger and stronger. All we have to do is stay with the plan."

Germany said nothing. It wasn't the first time his BOSS had spoken about his plan, but whenever Germany would ask for details, he would be told that it wasn't his concern. Though he'd stopped asking, he still didn't like The Plan. Something about it, just the idea that his BOSS would keep something from him, made him very uneasy. It was almost as if his BOSS didn't trust him.

"Your next task is to build a prison." Germany's BOSS went back to stand behind his desk and looked down at several papers he had strewn out across it. "The specifications are finalized and the workers are all in place."

"But we have prisons for the soldiers taken in battle."

"This won't be a prison for soldiers." Germany's BOSS picked up one of the papers from his desk and handed it to Germany. "This is to be an inescapable prison, a prison that no one will ever leave."

It was the oddest thing – when Germany took the paper from his BOSS, his hand burned. It wasn't painful, exactly, but he could feel a distinct prickling. It was as if he were holding his hand just a little too close to a fire. A glance at the paper showed that it was a blueprint for the proposed prison. He studied it carefully, but there were some things about it that he didn't understand. He resolved to study more about blueprints and prisons. Perhaps if he understood more about prisons he would understand why this new one had such absurdly big ovens. Germany felt a twitch in his stomach; something was wrong, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Gas? Pits? It didn't seem like a prison.

Germany's BOSS went on, clearly unaware of Germany's disquiet. "This prison will house the most dangerous, most foul influences on our society; people who shouldn't be allowed to be near our good citizens." He turned away from Germany and stared at a wall so intently that Germany, in a brief moment of fancy, wondered if his BOSS was seeing something that Germany couldn't. "We will have the strongest people in the world - an ideal for all to admire. In order to do that we must eliminate all that is weak and corrupt in our society. We will rid this country and, eventually, this world of all who would weaken it. We will not allow the few undesirables to spoil what can become great. All of those undesirables will be isolated and disposed of." Then he turned back to Germany with a smile. "Such a grim face. There's nothing to look so worried about; it's all for your own good."

"Sir, I don't understand."

"That's alright; you don't have to. Just do as you're told."

"Yes, sir." Germany looked back down at the blueprints. At the top of the papers, written in his BOSS' small handwriting, was the name of the new prison.

It was to be called Auschwitz.

 

To be continued…


	10. Scared

A/N: This is NOT meant to be historically accurate.  
warning: The rating goes up a bit in this chapter due to the serious issues Germany must deal with.

Chapter 10: Scared

Germany-

The new prison in Poland that Germany had to build for his BOSS… something was decidedly wrong with it. It was terrible, but Germany couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly, that something terrible was. It wasn't the first time he'd done a construction project, of course, but it was the first time that one had made him want to be sick. Every brick he laid into place, every line of barbed wire he set up around the perimeter of the encampment, every latrine trench he dug – it made the unease he'd felt when he'd last spoken with his BOSS turn into sickness. His stomach rolled until he truly thought he'd be ill. The human men who worked with him were no happier than he was, but at least he took comfort in seeing that they didn't look as if they would be sick. There was no friendly chatter or yelling or anything else that Germany had seen all of the other times that he'd worked alongside his people. Instead, the men all worked with melancholy expressions.

"Sir?" One young man - certainly he couldn't have been older than nineteen – hesitated when he moved to stand near Germany. He was tanned and tall with a thin build that was only just shy of being skinny. His eyes were bright, an earthy brown. "You don't look well, sir. Everything alright?"

"Yes. I have been working too long, perhaps. And you? You are well?"

"Yes, sir." The young man stood a little straighter and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. "I may not look it, but I'm strong and willing. It was hard finding any work at all. I'm grateful for this." He blushed a little and smiled. "My wife… she's having our first baby. The money I earn from this job is very important."

Germany gave the young man a smile and turned back to his work."Congratulations. You must be very happy." When he didn't get a response right away, Germany looked up to see that the young man was frowning at him and looked puzzled.

"Did you say something? I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're saying unless you look at me, sir. I'm deaf."

"Oh. Sorry. I said you must be happy."

They worked quietly after that, everyone just eager to be done with the construction. As with all things that Germany did, the prison was built quickly and efficiently. The human workers celebrated with beer and cheering when their work was done and they were given their pay. It had taken them a great long time, but they were told it was all for the good of their country and they were proud to sweat for that.

Germany stepped away from the humans and looked from them to the prison. He couldn't find it in himself to smile and that didn't seem right. It was well-built. His people were satisfied. Not a thing had gone wrong. Still… the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach just wouldn't go away.

While Germany stood there watching and pondering and wishing that he could put his finger on the something that was very clearly wrong, a soldier stepped crisply up to him and saluted. "Sir, I was told to thank you for your hard work. Everything's taken care of now. Prisoners will start arriving, shortly, and the guards will take care of things from then on. You should leave, now."

Germany blinked, shocked. "Is that an order? Are YOU giving ME an order?"

"Of course not, sir!" The soldier protested and looked horrified at the very idea. "I wouldn't presume. I'm just passing on a message. Honestly!"

Of course. There was truth in the man's face, Germany could see that. Still, it seemed an odd message to pass on. The order would have come from his BOSS as he was the only one who could give Germany orders. So he did as he was told, almost thankful for the order to leave. He was exhausted and confused and wanted nothing more than to go home.

He turned to leave, but at just that moment unbelievable pain struck at his arm. Such agony! So unexpectedly did it come that Germany cried out and clutched his forearm, holding it protectively to his chest. His vision clouded to the point of near blindness, stars danced in his eyes. In that awful haze, he saw.

There was a train, somewhere, roaring through the countryside with people packed inside like animals. In another burst of pain and stars, he saw a young woman running through dark alleys. There were two small children, trembling and crying, hiding in a closet.

With a sharp inhalation, Germany's eyes sprang open. The prison was complete and the workers had all gone. Now, there were soldiers everywhere. The front gate of the prison opened to allow a large, covered truck to drive through. The soldiers unloaded prisoners from that truck, but they were not the uniformed prisoners that Germany was accustomed to seeing. They didn't even seem quite like normal hooligans. There were men, but also women and children. Some of them had babies in their arms. Everyone kept huddled together with miserable fear surrounding them like a fog. The soldiers moved in, separating people into different groups, pulling parents away from their children. There was yelling and crying, screams and swears.

It was what his BOSS wanted.

It was a secret.

Breathing hard, almost dizzy from sudden confusion and pain, Germany looked down at his throbbing arm and saw that the marks that had been gradually appearing for the past few days had darkened and were fully comprehensible. It was a series of numbers. He scowled, hating the numbers for no clear reason. He wanted to growl and scream and hit something. The hatred boiled inside of him, making his head throb painfully and blood surge in his ears.

"Sir?" The young soldier was back, again, and looking at Germany with concern. "What happened? Are you alright?" He made as if to look at Germany's arm, but Germany stepped back a pace.

"Keep your eyes on your work, soldier!" Germany snapped.

The young soldier stiffened and flushed. "Sir! Forgive me, sir! I was only… only…"

"Don't stand about babbling! If I wanted anything from you, you'd know it. Now, get out of my sight and do your duty!"

"Sir! Yes, sir!" The poor boy fairly ran away from Germany.

His chest heaving and trembling all over, Germany watched the young man go. He knew that others nearby who'd seen the incident were staring. He put his hand over the abhorrent numbers on his arm and turned his back on the prison. What had he done? The soldier had done nothing to deserve being shouted at. Germany tugged the sleeve of his uniform down over the numbers that marked him then hurried away, desperate to get away from the festering anger, from the families of prisoners, from the prison that made him sick… desperate to get away from himself.

Austria-

In the tidy kitchen of Germany's house, Austria sat at the table with Hungary, Elizaveta, while the Italy brothers and Japan sat together on the floor admiring Aster's new puppies. South Italy lay on his stomach, propped up on his forearms, and stared intently at Aster and the puppies. Strangely, Aster had no issues with either of the Italy brothers getting close to her newborns. The other dogs had returned and settled themselves comfortably near Aster, but not so close as to make the new mother aggressive. South Italy just stared, clearly fascinated. Austria had never seen him so quiet. Perhaps that shouldn't be so surprising, he reflected. He'd rarely ever seen South Italy outside of official gatherings. Spain was notoriously jealous when it came to what he perceived as 'his' and had always kept South Italy close at hand.

Feliciano and Japan had arrived only shortly after Austria and, after hearing that Germany hadn't returned, began preparations for lunch. After a good deal of arguing and bargaining, tears and threats, a compromise was suggested by Japan. They would have pasta with diced tomatoes and sausage for lunch with tea and cake for desert. Strangely, even after lunch had been agreed upon and made, Feliciano hadn't been happy. He'd wanted to wait for Germany to return and had tried so hard to wait that it took several attempts to convince him that Germany would want them to eat rather than waiting for him. Feliciano had reluctantly agreed, but still put a plate of food aside for Germany when he did return.

After the meal, everyone settled in to their current positions. Feliciano sat on the floor with his big brother, but kept up his usual chatter while alternating between speaking with everyone in the room and admiring the puppies. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and rocked gently as he spoke. Elizaveta sipped coffee as she and Japan spoke leisurely of art and swords. All in all it was a comfortable, domestic time when everyone was content and happy.

There was absolutely no reason at all for the nagging anxiety that twisted inside of Austria. He felt like he was getting an ulcer. Quietly, Austria stood and walked to the kitchen's window. He couldn't put his finger on it. All seemed as normal as it could be in war time. It took him a moment to notice Elizaveta's reflection in the window beside his own.

"He's taking too long."

"He's reliable. He'll be back soon," Austria replied. Germany had always been responsible, almost to a fault. "His meeting is just taking longer than he expected, I’m sure."  
Elizaveta's mouth curled into an unpleasant sneer. "Since when does Germany's BOSS ever spend more time with him than necessary? He snaps an order and then sends poor Germany away." She stood with stiff shoulders as she wallowed in the offense done to her dear little Germany.

"We've all had unpleasant BOSS'; ones who've feared us or simply didn't understand us. I'm sure his next one will behave more warmly towards him." They were only empty words and by the way Elizeveta looked at him, she knew it as well as he did. "Whatever is keeping him, he will return as soon as he's able to."

"I hope so. Feliciano is starting to worry." True to Elizaveta's words, every few minutes, Feliciano would turn just a bit and look out the window, obviously looking to see if Germany was coming. When he saw no sign of Germany, Feliciano would turn back to talking to his brother. "I'm always watching our boys – you know that." She gave a thoughtful glance to South Italy. "And now we have one more."

As they watched, Japan leaned slightly towards South Italy and began speaking so softly that neither could hear him. South Italy, clearly, had no such trouble. While staring at Japan with wide eyes, he burst out, "You didn't!"

Japan nodded. "I did. We will discuss it further once Germany has returned."

"But… but I belong with him. You can't just make that kind of decision. You can't take me away from him! I belong to Spain; I've belonged to him for almost as long as I can remember." South Italy pushed himself up into a sitting position and then leapt to his feet. He started to pace. "He's gonna be so angry. He'll think I said something to you or that I asked you to do it and that's not true – it's not! You can't just make decisions like that and then go swinging a sword around!" South Italy reached his hands up and started pulling at his hair in big handfuls. "Ohhh! He's gonna be so angry at me!"

Japan's serene gaze didn't flinch from South Italy. "Let him be."

The quiet words brought South Italy up short. "W-what?"

"What does it matter if he is cross with you? You are not under his rule any longer. Any associating you do with one another will be done on your terms – not his."

"But - " South Italy's hands fell away from his hair.

"No 'buts'. I made this decision for the sake of your well-being. Because of what we have learned recently of Spain's behavior, I believe that my decision is correct. If he is angry, he will be angry with me. If he is angry with you for an action that was not of your doing, then I think you will do well to look for another to give your loyalty to."

"It's not that easy!"

Feliciano got up on his knees and tugged on his brother's shirt. "But it is. Now you don't HAVE to go back, but you can if you want."

South Italy stared down at his little brother as if the words made no sense at all. "If I… want?"

It was Japan who answered with, "Yes. Spain knows that he may write to you and that either Germany or myself will pass the letter to you. If you decide you would like to meet him, we will set up a supervised meeting. You will be safe and in control."

Apparently, the idea of being in control of any situation was a bit much for South Italy; he sat down so abruptly, that it seemed as if his legs had collapsed beneath him. He even allowed Feliciano to cuddle next to him without any protest.

"What do you suppose he meant about Spain's behavior?" Elizaveta murmured. Her eyes narrowed. "Did he do something to South Italy? Did he do something after we trusted him to take care of little Lovino?" Her voice slid into something close to a growl. "We should have kept him!"

'Ah', Austria thought. 'So now it's 'Lovino' rather than 'South Italy''.' Austria turned away from the scene. "What is done, is done. Wallowing in guilt will accomplish nothing."

"I don't wallow!"

"Of course not, my love."

"I just want to know what Spain thought he could get away with. Why is Lovino so afraid of him?"

"I really couldn't guess and I would advise you not to pry. South Italy would have told you if he'd wanted you to know. Japan has apparently dealt with the situation and he is quite sensible." Then, he felt it. Someone was in his house.

"Roderick?" Elizaveta lightly touched his arm. "What's wrong?"

He could feel that 'something wrong' growing stronger. "Please, excuse me." Without waiting for an answer or the questions he knew she'd start firing at him, Austria gathered up his coat and left Germany's house. He didn't stop until he reached his own house where the feeling of 'something wrong' was so powerful that it was nearly overwhelming. His house looked the same as ever, but it just didn't feel right.

At the front door, he froze for a moment and wondered why he hadn't brought Elizaveta along. He was no warrior and everyone knew it. He'd taken enough badgering over the years from Prussia and Switzerland to know that just about anyone was a better warrior than he was. There could be anyone in his house. Someone like Russia or America could be waiting for him. But it could also be just a thief stealing his new sheet music and he was almost certain he could deal with a common thief on his own. If he were to call for Elizaveta for nothing more than a thief, then he would never hear the end of it from Prussia. But perhaps it wasn't anything dangerous at all.

Austria scowled at his shoes.

Perhaps little Liechtenstein had decided to pay a visit as she did from time to time. And if he called in help and it turned out that sweet Liechtenstein just wanted to borrow a cup of sugar? What if that feeling of 'wrongness' was that Liechtenstein had somehow gotten hurt while in his house and needed help? If he waited around like a coward outside, waiting for someone to help him, when Liechtenstein was alone and in pain and scared... no. He couldn't wait.

So he steeled himself and pushed open the front door. The house was utterly silent and empty, no sign at all of any intruders. He went through the house as quietly as possible, peering around corners and easing doors open so he could peek through them before entering a room. It wasn't until he reached the kitchen and heard a sharp, rapid clattering sort of noise that he stopped short.

Germany, in full uniform, stood at the kitchen table with a mixing bowl braced in the crux of one arm while he stirred with a wooden spoon. It was the spoon rapping against the side of the bowl that had made the sharp noise he'd heard. With a look of extreme concentration on his face that set his mouth in a thin line and made his forehead wrinkle, Germany stirred with a vicious, almost desperate, action. On the table were the canisters for flour and sugar and Austria knew at once what Germany was working on.

"There's chocolate in the pantry, if you want to make it a chocolate cake."

Germany turned his back on Austria and kept stirring. If anything, his efforts only grew in intensity. His large arm moved so rapidly that Austria feared the bowl would break. All at once, as if the bowl had done something to offend him, Germany slammed the mixing bowl down onto the table hard enough that some of the batter splattered out of the bowl and onto the tabletop.

Shockingly, Germany didn't even glance at the mess he'd made.

He paced. Several times down the length of the kitchen and then around the table, he paced. He swung his arms at his sides and clenched and unclenched his fists. All the while, he looked at the floor, his head lowered.

There was, Austria knew, music in all things, everywhere. He heard music without any instrument ever being struck or strummed or blown. There was music in the wind and in the rushing water of a river. He could see music in the soft moonlight and in the sway of Elizaveta's hair when she walked. He could feel it when a thunderstorm raged. But, watching Germany's agitation, Austria realized with sudden terror, that there was no music. He heard nothing but Germany's hard-soled boots stomping on the floor. He couldn't feel anything but the oppressive anger radiating from Germany. It was as if there was something dead in the air around Germany.

Could it be that Germany was killing the music? It wasn't possible. All people and everything had its own unique music – it couldn't be just turned off. Yet, around Germany, it had been. Perhaps not killed or turned off, Austria mused. Perhaps Germany's music had, instead, been changed so radically that it was simply unrecognizable as music. Austria closed his eyes and concentrated. The notion was so incredible that Austria had never considered such a thing. Surely, the music of nations could change as a nation's culture and identity changed, but only over the course of years, sometimes centuries – not in the days since he'd last seen Germany.

But… there. He heard it. It was quiet, almost nonexistent, but Austria heard it. The music was… angry. It was frightened and it was painful.

Austria shook his head to separate himself from the music. "You surprised me." He pushed the door completely opened and stepped into the room. "You usually call before you visit."

Germany didn't even look up when Austria approached him. "Sorry. Sorry." Germany walked to the stove, stared at it for a moment, then back to the table set in the middle of the kitchen. "I just wanted to be… here. I had to come here." His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "It's quiet and I needed some quiet."

"You're always welcomed if you need to rest, but why didn't you go home?"

"I think Feliciano is there. I don't want to see him, now."

"You don't want to see him? Or would it be more honest to say that you don't want him to see you in this condition."

The look that Germany threw at him was venomous. So full of something so appallingly vile that Austria's voice was taken for a moment. The tension in Germany's posture was unlike anything Austria had ever seen in the young nation – he was almost shaking. His lips were pressed together in a hard line, almost as if he were afraid to open his mouth.

"What is wrong?"

"Why do you think something's wrong? Has someone said something? What have you heard?"

Taken aback by the fierce tone, Austria was quiet for a moment. "I really do think that you need some rest."

"I'm not tired."

Austria raised an eyebrow, looking at the dark circles under Germany's eyes and how pale his skin was. "That is a lie and you know I don't approve of such nonsense."

Such fury on Germany's face! Even when he'd been a small lad and had reason enough for a childish tantrum, he'd never gotten so angry. He'd always been a mild-tempered, controlled child. The rage was uncharacteristic, almost as if he were an entirely different person. The lie, too, was unlike Germany. He'd never been one to tolerate falsehoods, from others or himself. "How dare you accuse me - "

"Did you want that chocolate for your cake?"

"I don't want chocolate and I don't want a cake!" He appeared to completely ignore the fact that he'd just been mixing up batter. "I just came here because… because…" His voice trailed away, uncertainly. "I came here because it's quiet and I needed to think about something. If I'd known you were going to start in on me the moment I arrived, I would have found somewhere quieter; I think the middle of a battlefield would have been an excellent place! And what do you think you're doing questioning me like this? I ought to send you to… to…" Germany half-turned away from Austria and gave his head a little shake, as if to stir away the cobwebs in there that were befuddling him.

When it became evident that Germany couldn't finish his thought, Austria scowled. A sharp barb was on the tip of his tongue, but considering Germany's unusual state, he bit back his words and, instead, went to his cabinet where he pulled out a large bar of fine chocolate. "If you don't want a cake, then just take a few bites. I find that chocolate always helps me to relax and it seems as if you need some relaxing. Sit." When Germany did nothing but glare ferociously at him, Austria pulled out a chair at the table and pointed sharply at the seat. "I said, sit."

Germany stomped to the chair and sat heavily.

"Your brother used to throw tantrums like this." He broke a chunk of chocolate off the large bar and held it out to Germany. "I was hoping that you hadn't picked up that bad habit. Eat. Switzerland charges a handsome fee for his chocolate, I won't have it wasted. Go on. It will do you good."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were. Eat."

Germany leapt to his feet, grabbed the chocolate out of Austria's hands, and threw it across the room. He towered over Austria with a glower so awful, it seemed that he might be trying to set Austria on fire from the heat of it. "Stop telling me what to do!"

Austria raised an eyebrow. "Don't you raise your voice to me, young man. Your head is still bandaged – don't shake your head at me! I can see it under your hat! – and you're paler than a ghost." He used one finger to push his spectacles further up on his nose. "Some food and rest will be the best thing for you."

"No!" Germany slammed both fists down on the kitchen table which, to no great surprise, collapsed into a pile of kindling. Then he rounded furiously on Austria. "You don't… I… I just…" He stood there panting, as though speaking had been an immense effort and as Austria watched, that fury faded into something he rarely saw on Germany's face when the situation did not somehow involve Feliciano – fear. Germany put his arms around himself and whispered, "My head won't stop hurting and everyone's mad and I yelled at one of my people today and I shouldn't have yelled. He didn't do anything wrong." Germany looked down at his feet. "I'm angry. I don't know why, but I'm angry and it won't stop."

Austria swallowed hard and absently straightened his white gloves. "You're going to have to rest."

"There's no time – the war. Oh, Uncle Roddy," Germany very suddenly fell to his knees, his strength no longer sufficient to support him, and looked up at Austria with wide, bright blue eyes. "I'm scared. Something's happening and I don't understand. I think I've made an awful mess and I don't know how to clean it up. I'm sick. I can't stop fighting. It's always the same, always fighting and my BOSS isn't listening to me. He never listens and he never tells me anything. I'm so scared."

Austria was suddenly reminded of a long-ago night when Prussia had needed him to baby sit. At some point during the night, Austria gotten the scare of his life when he’d found that little Germany's bed was empty. He’d searched the house and had finally found Germany curled up in a closet. When asked what he was doing, Germany had said he was hoping that the darkness in the closet would hide him from his nightmares. So what nightmares did he have now that would make big, strong Germany look so like the frightened child he'd once been?

"My arm… look at my arm!" He thrust out his arm towards Austria and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a series of numbers. "I don't know what it is. No one's telling me anything." Then he confessed, in a hushed voice, "I keep hearing things."

"What kind of things?"

"Voices. Muttering. Screaming. Uncle Roddy… I think I'm losing my mind." His hands went up to his head, as if he could stop the voices if only he pressed hard enough. "A hissing… an awful hissing. Fire and the smell. I can smell it."

"Smell what?"

"Garbage. Filth. Something's burning. There's…" Germany closed his eyes, seeing something that only he could see. "People are crowded all around. I can see them! Squashed together. It's so hot and the smell is terrible." His eyes sprung open and he lurched to his feet and away from Austria. "My people are being taken somewhere. So many of my people… but there are some that aren't my people. Strangers from another's house. I don't - " He stopped abruptly, gave his head another little shake, and let his arms drop to his sides as he straightened his back and stood as straight and tall as a flagpole. His pained eyes cleared. "I need to go."

"You need to rest!"

"There's been too much resting. There is work to be done and I shouldn't be here. What am I doing here? I'm in the middle of a war. I need to go." At the doorway, Germany staggered and that broke Austria's composure. He hurried forward and took Germany's arm.

"It's time to go home," Austria told him, sternly.

"But- "

"Just lean on my shoulder a bit to steady yourself. That's it. Slowly, now."

"I'm sorry," Germany muttered after a few steps. "Sometimes I forget."

"Forget what?"

"You. I caught myself thinking of my brother not long ago – of how he'd been my only role model." Germany's voice began to slur as he spoke. "But… you were always there, too. You and Hungary. Always there. I always so admired you."

The slip into sentimentality was almost as alarming as Germany's quickly drooping eyelids and how heavily he leaned on Austria's shoulder. "Enough of that. Let's get you home. As I said, a rest is just what you need. Everything will look clearer in the morning. Maybe then we can figure out why your head is taking so long to heal."

Germany shook his head slowly, as if it were a great effort. "I already know." He put a hand to the wound on his head. "I understand, now. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I know why this won't heal. Spain's blow was nothing – it should have been nothing. But… I've become weak without realizing it. I was so busy with the war that I didn't see what they – what HE – was doing." Germany began to cough, then. He coughed so harshly that they had to stop walking until Germany could get his breath back. "I want to go home."

Germany said nothing else as they went and Austria, fearing for his little boy, didn't dare press him for more.

Feliciano-

Feliciano sat by the window, but no matter how long he waited there was no sign of either Germany or Austria. He felt twitchy. He wanted to run out of the house to find them, but Hungary had been confident that they would come home, soon. Japan had patted his arm and reminded him that Germany was always careful and would certainly return in good health.

So, trusting in opinions of those older than him, Feliciano stayed put, waiting and watching. The house was peaceful and that, in itself, was a bit strange because Feliciano could hardly remember a time when his big brother had been quiet. He wouldn't go so far as to say that Lovino was happy, but looking at him as he sat on the floor next to Aster with one hand lightly stroking the back of a tiny pup, Feliciano smiled. If Lovino wasn't happy, then he was at least content and at peace for the moment. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he was only vaguely aware as Hungary and Japan left the room. He'd sunk so deeply into his thoughts, in fact, that it had taken two calls of his name and a shoe to the head before he realized that Lovino was trying to get his attention.

"Come on and sit with me," Lovino said. "And gimme back my shoe. There's something we gotta talk about and I don't think we're gonna get much time alone to talk."

"'Kay!" Feliciano smiled brightly as he slid down to the floor to sit with Lovino next to the dogs.

Lovino gently picked up one of Aster's new puppies. It was small and weak and mewling hungrily. Its ears were comically long and its' tail was a little too long for such a tiny puppy. Lovino looked sternly at Feliciano. "Now you just listen carefully, right? I've been puzzling this over and I decided - you really need to understand something, but you're a bit dense. Let's try it this way. This," he held up the puppy. "Is you. Right?"

"I'm so cute!"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Stay focused. This one is you. This one," he picked up a decidedly homely puppy with a great black spot over one eye and paws that were far, far too big. "This is Germany." He set it on the floor next to the 'Feliciano' puppy and nudged them gently until they were laying side-by-side and cuddled into one another. "Germany loves Feliciano. Get it?"

Feliciano clasped his hands together and giggled. "So cute! We should play with puppies more often, don't you think? I'll bet Aster will let one of her babies live with us when they're big enough."

Lovino slapped himself on the forehead. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. "You dummy, we're not taking about pets. Look, I know Germany's thick, but one of you has got to get a clue about this or you're going to go nowhere fast. Now, pay attention." He gestured towards the two puppies, again. "These two belong together, just like you and your Germany. You mean a lot to him; anyone can see that. He takes care of you and looks after you. He tries to teach you things. No matter what kind of mess you get yourself into, he's always charging to the rescue, even when you can't remember whether to push or pull to open your own front door."

"Awww… that only happened once."

"I'm not done talking! You be quiet and just listen. I'm sick to death of seeing you and him mope around and - "

"Hey! Look!" Feliciano picked up another puppy – the runt of the litter. "This one is you and – ow!" Feliciano wailed until the puppy stopped biting his finger. He held the puppy carefully, though he looked at Lovino with a hurt, teary expression. "Your puppy bit me."

"Will you stop with that?"

"But your puppy has to be nice so Germany puppy will like him." Feliciano tried to put the squirmy puppy on the floor next to the other two puppies, but it began to whine and make such distressing sounds that Feliciano didn't have the heart to put it down. It bit him, again.

"He's only doing that because he's scared. Just put him back with his mama and start paying attention." Lovino was going red in the face and he started to tap a finger on his knee. "I'm trying to illustrate a point and Lord knows it's hard enough when you aren't distracted. I see how Germany looks at you. He's always there, always around you. He gets jealous when you go about flirting and that time – you remember that time when I said I saw him at our house and I gave him some fruit?"

"Sure. He was really happy about that, but I still don't know why you don't want him to know it was you who gave it to him."

"Hey! He didn't recognize me and I wanna keep it like that. If he starts thinking I'm giving him free stuff then he might think I can actually tolerate him. Anyway, I heard him say when he was walking away that he loved everything about Italy."

"But he was talking about you, I think. He was talking to you just a minute before and…"

"He didn't know me! Aren't you listening? He thought I was just some peddler on the street. No, you were the only Italy he knew back then and he said he LOVED everything about you."

Feliciano went quiet and pulled his knees up to his chest. "I want you to be happy, big brother. You seem so unhappy. Germany's wonderful, you know. He's strong and pretty and smart. He could make anyone happy."

Lovino smacked Feliciano on the back of the head.

Feliciano squawked and blinked at Lovino. "Germany won't like it if you hit me!"

"And if you hit anyone, he'll probably buy you an ice cream. What makes you think I need him to make me happy? I'm perfectly happy. There's nothing at all wrong with me. You need to worry about you. You and Germany – you're both dummies. You know, he thinks you're in love with Japan."

Feliciano's eyes grew comically wide and his mouth fell open. "Me? Japan?" He squeaked before shaking his head, rapidly. "No! No! Kiku's just a friend. We're really good friends and he doesn't mind it when I talk too much and we can talk about art all the time and he has great museums and he really clever, but… in love? No!"

Lovino snorted. "Don't get all frazzled with me; I know who you're in love with. It's Germany who's confused. You're confused, too, but that's nothing new. So, if you don't want Germany buying wedding presents for a wedding that's not going to happen, maybe you should have a talk with him, 'cause he doesn't seem to think that I know my own brother."

Feliciano's stunned reflection on Germany's mistaken belief was interrupted when Hungary and Japan walked back into the room with the mail. Hungary was looking over Japan's shoulder at a letter he held. "Why is it addressed to both you and Germany?"

"A delicate political matter," Japan explained with a soft smile and a strange look of satisfaction. "It is something I was expecting." He tore open the envelope and, without a hint of surprise, pulled from it a second, smaller envelope. That second envelope he handed to Lovino. "For you."

Lovino reached for the envelope, but froze when he saw his name written on it. He looked slowly up at Japan. "It's from Spain. I know his handwriting."

"You don't have to read it if you don't want to."

But Lovino did take the letter. Without a word, he turned his back to them as he tore open the envelope and pulled out a small piece of paper. He muttered, "I'm sorry."

"What?" Feliciano was at his side, leaning against him to look at the paper.

"That's what it says: I'm sorry. Nothing else. He didn't even sign it." Lovino stared at the paper for a minute before shoving it into his trousers pocket with suddenly trembling hands. "I wonder if he really means it."

Feliciano leaned his head on Lovino's shoulder. "Don't you worry. If he doesn't mean it, I'll fight him for you."

Lovino let out a shaky laugh meant more to cover up his suddenly shaken nerves than out of real humor. "You? Fight? Pull the other leg." He kept his hand in his pocket where it rested against the letter that he was almost afraid was sincere. If it was sincere, if Spain truly meant his apology… then what?

To be continued…


	11. Final Duty

Chapter 11: Final Duty

Germany-

Betrayed.

Germany leaned heavily on Austria and wished he were anywhere else but there. It was embarrassing. To be helped to do something as simple as walking… he was so ashamed of himself. Austria wouldn't tell, he was sure. Austria never told any secrets, not even to Prussia. Hungary would know whether she was told or not. Hungary always knew everything. She knew when Prussia was trying to hide that he'd been wounded in battle and she knew when Austria was in a snit because his music wouldn't cooperate. Somehow, she even knew when… when…

The stars were bright.

Germany sighed. His thoughts were wandering, again. He bit the inside of his cheek to focus himself. Such idleness couldn't be permitted. There was too much to do. There was work to be done and he still had to deal with so many troubles and the Allies could attack at any minute… no. He was supposed to attack them. Wasn't he?

He had been betrayed. He didn't know exactly when that realization had hit him, but he knew it was so. As he'd tried to tell Austria earlier, he knew why his head wound wouldn't heal. He had been betrayed by the man who was meant to protect and defend him. His BOSS had betrayed him.

Germany closed his eyes and saw them – prisoners who'd committed no crimes. He saw men, women, and children starving to death behind barbed wire fences. He saw piles of bodies. He saw experiments so monstrous that no sane soul could help but be sickened by them. There were so many, not just his people, but also the peoples of other Nations, being killed. Germany didn't understand why, though. There were reasons. If he concentrated hard enough he could almost see the reasons – differences. There was something 'different' about the people being killed whether it was religious, physical, or something in their lifestyle, there was something different about them that made them a target. The numbers on his forearm and the star he wore were marks that many of his people were forced to bear, marks that proved to the world that they were different.

Opening his eyes, again, Germany felt himself weaken a bit more. If only he'd been smarter, he would have seen it sooner. Prussia would have seen it; he would have known to look closer at what his BOSS was doing. Not Germany – no. He'd wanted to believe in his BOSS so badly that he hadn't even tried to think why his BOSS had done so many of the things he'd done.

If he'd been smarter…

If he'd been less obedient…

If he'd questioned…

If…

The trip back to Germany's house was a long one. It seemed too long, in fact. Every step was a chore, every breath labored. When they finally arrived at Germany's home, there were lights on and Germany's first thought upon seeing them was how odd it was that people were awake so late at night. They should have been sleeping. It was a waste of power to keep the lights on and that wasted money and he didn't have enough of that to spare.

Unnoticed, they went through a side door and went immediately to Germany's bedroom where he gratefully lay down. Austria pulled the curtains closed. Germany said nothing when Austria pulled a quilt out of a dresser and spread it out over Germany. He was fairly certain that Liechtenstein had made it for him as a gift once-upon-a-time. It was warm and smelled like flowers… It was nice, but the flower scent couldn't quite drown out the lingering stench that he couldn't seem to escape. The stink of death. Since completing Auschwitz he hadn't been able to escape that smell.

Austria said, "Now I do hope you'll stay in bed for a while – clearly, you need the rest. I don't know exactly what's going on with you, but I intend to find out."

Germany rolled over onto his side, away from Austria. He couldn't bear to tell the truth. The shame was too great. "Where is my brother?"

"Fighting, I expect."

"Oh." Germany's whole body seemed to tighten, his knees pulled up towards his chest and his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to curl into a ball. "Where is vati?"

Austria was quiet for a moment. "Your vati has gone."

"Gone where? Where do we go when we are not 'us' anymore? Vati, Roman Empire, Ancient Greece? Where do we go?" When there was no immediate answer, Germany closed his eyes. He had the very strong feeling that he, too, would be gone, soon. "Never mind. It's not important. I'm tired. I think I'll sleep for a while."

He didn't fall asleep, but he did rest and while he rested, he made his plan. He knew what was wrong with him, now, and he knew there was only one way to fix it. That knowledge helped him to focus, gave him a goal and he was very good at reaching his goals. All he needed was to fix a few details before he began what had to be done.

As he lay in his bed, making mental lists of what needed to be done, what would have to be done before he could set out, he waited for Austria to leave the room. It took a few moments for him to realize that Austria wasn't leaving.

The door creaked slightly and several pairs of footsteps crept into the room.

"You're back," Hungary said, her voice lowered to a whisper.

"Clearly. He's sleeping." In a voice so soft that Germany could only barely him, Austria told her everything he knew or suspected though he did not, as Germany had known he wouldn't, tell about having to almost carry Germany home.

When Austria finished, Hungary said, with a tone so serious that Germany hadn't heard the like from her in years, "If anyone learns how weakened he is they'll fall on him like vultures."

Feliciano -

It was all too much for Feliciano. He wasn't used to such unhappiness, especially not from the people he cared for. There wasn't a single smile in the room. Without much thought at all, Feliciano leaned over and threw his arms around Lovino. As he knew Lovino would only tolerate affection for a brief time, so he let go almost at once before he scampered across the room to Austria and gave him a hug. The tension in Austria's shoulders eased at once and he brought one hand up to pat Feliciano gently on the arm. Hungary got the next hug after that, which she repaid with a smile and a kiss on the forehead. He started to go for Japan, but stopped when the man held up a finger in warning and he remembered that Japan thought such displays were inappropriate. So instead of a hug, he launched himself at Japan and seized both of his hands in a warm, gentle grip.

"Everything will be okay," Feliciano assured everyone. "It'll work out. Germany is the strongest and best person. He will be fine. He WILL be!" But Feliciano doubted his own words when he looked down at Germany.

With his blonde hair mussed and the scowl wiped from his face by sleep, Germany looked so young. That was normal, of course. Every night he saw Germany like that, so strangely vulnerable. Of course, he knew that Germany slept with a gun under his pillow and a long knife in reach just under the bed, but he was still, somehow, able to look vulnerable. That vunerability was made all the more apparent with the bandage on Germany’s head, the awful pallor of Germany's face, heavy bags under his eyes, and, unless Feliciano were much mistaken, a frightening amount of lost weight.

Without replying to Feliciano's hopeful words, Austria and Hungary left the room.

Lovino was at Feliciano's side, then, but looked at his feet rather than Feliciano when he spoke. "You should get some sleep."

Obediently, Feliciano curled up beside Germany and pulled the blanket over himself. "You gotta get better." Feliciano muttered, reaching one hand up to lightly touch Germany's hair. "We all need you. You're so important. And… and if you don't get better who's going to take care of everyone?"

"We will take care of each other." Japan sat on his side of the bed. "And, as we have been doing, we will take care of Germany, too. Everyone needs to be taken care of once in a while." He looked down at Germany with an uncharacteristically warm smile. "Even if he doesn't think so."

They all were quiet for a time.

Lovino crossed his arms and went to lean against the door frame. "This isn't going to stay a secret, you know. People are going to find out he's sick. England and his friends will find out and they'll rush us. We're not strong enough without him."

"We will keep Germany-san's secret as long as possible." Japan told them. "Hungary-san and Austria-san have decided that they will defend his borders and pass a message to his BOSS that should keep him satisfied for a time. They are also attempting to contact Prussia-san and are certain that he will help. We will all work together to protect him. After all, he has always worked to protect us and now we will do what must be done for his sake." Japan paused and frowned before he spoke, again. "Hungary-san and Austria-san believe that time will heal Germany."

"And you? Do you agree with them?" Lovino turned his head just slightly, as if to better hear Japan's answer.

"Time will help," Japan conceded. "But… I think it will not be enough. He has had time – more time than should be necessary – and he is only getting worse." Japan always had a serious aspect, but as he gazed down at Germany, his eyes took on a frightening determination. "It is my belief that the war must end before Germany can fully heal. He will need both time AND all of his resources to heal. He can't get strong enough to heal while all of his resources are being used in war. I am going to end the war."

Feliciano pulled the blanket up to his chin. "What do you mean you're going to end the war? How?"

"England-san is… was a good friend of mine. I will contact him and set up a meeting. He is reasonable enough to understand the benefits of a peaceful surrender."

Feliciano blinked and turned the word over and around in his mind. "Surrender? No more fighting?" A smile spread across his face. "That would be wonderful!"

Lovino frowned at Japan. "You're going to see England? You can't go there alone! He'll have all his friends with him and that France is grabby. They'll have you thrown in prison before you can blink!"

"I believe that England-san is honorable enough not to take advantage of this situation."

Lovino shook his head. "No! Spain, he used to tell me stories about England when they were at war all the time and England is vicious and scary! He sank all Spain's boats!"

"I know. And I know there are risks, but what must be done, will be done." Japan stood and smoothed the blanket where he'd sat. "I have some preparations to make. Please, excuse me." He took only one step before a low groan from Germany made him stop.

Germany's mouth fell open and a plume of some kind of smoke billowed out. The stench was overpowering, making Feliciano cover his nose and mouth at once. It was rancid. Putrid. The smell lingered in the air even after the smoke had dissipated.

With his thin fingers clenched together in distress, Feliciano stared with wide-eyes and Germany who laid gasping and coughing in the aftermath of the episode, though he still didn't appear to wake. "What… what is it? That's never happened before. I KNOW it hasn't!" He slapped both hands over his mouth to silence himself. After a moment, he said to Japan. "I don't remember anything in the first-aid book about people breathing smoke and I've been reading it - I have! I've been studying really hard, but I can't help if I don’t know what’s happening."

"I don't think any first aid treatment will help with this." Japan was scowling. He gently patted Germany's hand as he spoke to Feliciano. "It is a symptom of whatever is affecting him. Stay with Germany and make him comfortable. This will all be over soon." He stood and gave Germany a long look before he started out of the room.

Almost as soon as Japan had left, Lovino moved for the bedroom door. "I can't stay here."

"Where are you going?"

"You think I'm just going to hang around here doing nothing? I can help, too!" With that, he rushed out of the room, almost tripping over two of Germany's dogs when they padded into the room.

The dogs sniffed around the room for a bit and both whined with unhappiness.

"I'm worried, too." Feliciano told them as he patted the side of the bed, inviting them to go onto the bed. When they jumped up, both stood over Germany, examining him. They knew something was wrong, Feliciano was certain of that. In the end, the dogs jumped off the bed and lay down on the floor next to it. Felicano leaned over Germany just enough to look over him and down at the two dogs. They weren't any happier than anyone else in Germany's House. How had everything gone wrong so drastically? Where had their quiet days on the island gone? They'd been happy, once.

"Why don't you look so thoughtful when we're training?"

Feliciano was so deep in thought that it took him a moment to register the question. He blinked and smiled as he looked down. "Germany! You're awake! We were so worried and Japan said- "

Germany turned his face away. "Too loud."

"Sorry. I'm sorry. Look, I'll be quiet. Honest, you won't hear a thing from me."

"It's for you." Germany put a strangely clumsy hand to his throat and, with a bit of fumbling, pulled a chain off from around his neck. "I want you to have it, Feli."

Feliciano stared at the little tomato ring that hung on the chain. "What?"

"It's for you. I know you didn't want it when I tried to give it to you at the restaurant on Valentine's Day, but it would make me very happy if you were to keep it. It doesn't have to mean anything. You don't have to make any promises, but just… remember me."

So, Lovino had been right. The ring had been for Feliciano. That day in the restaurant, Germany hadn't been confused. He had known exactly whom he was speaking with. Feliciano reached out with one hand and Germany let the ring and chain fall into his palm.

"Germany… Ludwig, I…"

Germany was asleep, again. His head had turned just a bit to the side and his chest rose and fell gently.

The little ring was warm in Feliciano's hand. He ran his thumb over the tiny tomato. The confusion, he realized, had been all his.

Lovino-

He could help, too.

Feliciano would help by keeping Germany company and staying at his side. Austria, Hungary, and Japan would help by defending Germany with military force. But there was something that Lovino could do, too. He thought he could do it. It seemed simple enough. Every nation did it and just because Spain had been taking care of him for so long and always took care of the details for him didn't mean that Lovino was incapable of doing it.

It was with such confident thoughts that Lovino pushed open the door of Germany's office.

For a long moment, he stared at the interior. It was pristine. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. The dark wooden desk was perfectly cleared off, not a single paper left to be worked on. Relieved that his generous intention of a gift for Germany had ended up with him not having to do any work at all, Lovino smiled at the sight.

"Excuse me, sir."

A person, some unimportant human, chose that moment to slip by Lovino and set a pile of paperwork a foot tall on Germany's desk. The human frowned at the empty seat behind the desk. "Where is Herr Germany?"

"Busy." It was the best – and only – lie Lovino could think up on the spur of the moment. "What are you doing here, anyway? Who are you?"

The human hardly glanced at him. "I deliver Herr Germany's work and his mail. What's he busy doing? He's always here."

A human? Questioning a nation? It was insolent, at the very best.

"He's doing whatever he pleases. I'm going to take care of this!" Lovino slammed his palm down on Germany's desk and did his very best not to wince when he did so.

The human's eyes bulged. "You? Since when does Herr Germany allow anyone to do his work for him?"

"Well, maybe you don't know him as well as you thought you did. If you're done…?"

The human took the hint and excused himself.

German. It was all written in German.

Lovino slammed his forehead down on the desk. Pain blossomed behind his eyes. "Of course it's written in German, idiot," he told himself. "Did you think it would be in Italian?" He was ready to throw the towel in when his treacherous mind kept insisting that Germany deserved a little bit of help and there wasn't much else he could do. On Germany's book shelf there was a whole section devoted to all things Italian. Lovino snatched up the German/Italian dictionary and set back to work.

It was slow. It took ages just to read a sentence, and then he had to take more time to write down a response. He was exhausted after just a half-hour and it was almost siesta time. German made no sense. Why hadn't Feliciano taught the potato-eater how to write in Italian, yet?

The night came while he worked and still there was a massive pile of work in front of him. He got more and more irritable as he went. He was tired and hungry and really hoped that all the work would cancel out the debt he owed Germany, though he suspected it didn't even come close.

He found a letter halfway down the pile and the return address made him stop and stare. He felt faint as he read it. Spain. It was from Spain. Without any thought at all, Lovino tore open the envelope, ignored a smaller envelope that had been sealed with it, and read the letter.

To Germany and Japan.  
Re.: The governance of Romano Italia.  
I have been led to understand that I have behaved in a less than ideal manner in regards to the nation under my protection, Romano Italia. The wish made clear, by Japan, in that any correspondence between myself and Romano Italia should be regulated by Japan and Germany, will be respected. In the spirit of mutual cooperation for the well-being of Romano Italia, I hope that whomever receives this letter will ensure that Romano Italia receives the letter that I enclosed for him.  
Sincerely,  
Spain

The letter didn't sound like something Spain would write. It was just too formal. It was typed, for goodness sakes. Spain didn't type unless it was some mind-numbingly important affair. He opened the second envelope that, he then noticed, had his name printed across the front.

Lovi! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or scare you and I hope you believe me. Please don't be hurt, Lovi.  
Lovi, you be good for Japan and Germany. Don't give them any excuse to get angry at you. I know you don't like housework, but if they tell you to clean, you do it! They're strong and dangerous and I don't think they'd appreciate your fiery spirit like I do. Remember to eat healthy, more than just tomatoes, even though you like them, you've got to eat something more. And get some exercise. You won't be healthy if you don't exercise.  
I'm sorry.  
Be safe.  
Please, be safe and take care of yourself. You should be kinder to yourself.

It ended there.

Lovino couldn't help but smile – that letter had definitely been written by Spain.

There had been no begging for forgiveness or wild promises. He believed it. Spain was sorry… he thought. If only he could speak to Spain and see him, then he was sure he would know whether or not Spain was just joking. That, he realized, was fairly impossible. He didn't belong to Spain, anymore. He likely wouldn't see him for a very long time. After all, when he'd lived with Spain, hadn't Spain kept him in the house for years at a time? It had been a rare treat to be allowed outside to see his brother.

Japan had said that he wasn't a prisoner, though, hadn't he? When Lovino had first arrived in Germany's house, Japan had very specifically said that he wasn't a prisoner and was free to go for a walk, if he pleased. But, Lovino thought, what if Germany wasn't so liberal? What if Germany, who was clearly a strict, demanding nation, wanted to keep his belongings close at hand? What if he started to think that Lovino would run away to go back to Spain if he saw the notes Spain kept sending him?

He wouldn't, of course. Germany was too big for him to fight, but if Germany thought he might run off, then maybe he would lock Lovino up. Maybe he would do worse things than lock him up. Maybe he would hurt him or not feed him or not let him see Feli or…

Spain's note was crumpled up at once. Lovino didn't even notice his hand shaking as he squashed the paper into a tiny ball. He stood up and threw the wad of paper into Germany's trash basket as hard as he could, determined that Germany wouldn't find reason to punish him. He was perfectly comfortable with the fact that he was a coward. After all, it was his craven nature that had kept him alive for so many long years after his grandfather had abandoned him. He was a coward and that was just the way it was. Germany just wasn't someone he could fight.

The knowledge that Germany was currently laid up in bed and quite helpless was pushed to the back of his mind as he also knew that Germany could get better at any moment.  
He half turned back to Germany's desk, but stopped. Slowly, he looked back at the trash basket. He swore under his breath and dove for the trash basket, snatching the crumpled paper back out in a flash. He didn't bother to look at it, just stuffed it in his pocket before he went back to the desk to try and muddle through Germany's work.

Note or no note, he would prove that he could be useful. If he could learn to box, then surely he could learn to do paperwork.

Germany-

When the room finally fell silent, Germany opened his eyes and found himself alone, with the exception of Feliciano asleep at his side, in a darkened room.

He could taste the whatever-it-was that he'd expelled earlier that had so disturbed his allies. He didn't know what it was, but his lungs burned. It was as if something so horrifically awful were happening inside of him that he couldn't contain it.

He was hungry, so desperately hungry.

He was losing his mind. It sometimes felt as if he couldn't control himself. All of his life, he could remember striving for control, for being so proud to be able to control himself. Discipline in all things made life smoother. He knew he was strong and with that strength had come the necessity to control it; hadn't Prussia always stressed that? The sudden lack of control over his body and emotions was terrifying.

He found his eyes on Feliciano and felt a surge of cold dread.

He knew how shamefully he’d behaved towards Austria only hours ago when Austria had come to help help him and if he would be so disrespectful towards Austria, then what might he say to Feliciano if a lack-of-control overtook him? Feliciano was small and helpless; he’d be terribly hurt if Germany acted in such a manner. Feliciano was also rather stupid and weak as a baby.

"But he shines." The whispered words were out of Germany's mouth before he realized it. It took him a moment to decide that he didn't regret the words. Feliciano DID shine. He was bright and gentle and good-natured and, in Germany's increasingly ugly world, Feliciano was beautiful. Perhaps, most puzzling of all was that, for some bizarre reason, Feliciano had apparently decided that Germany was good enough to associate with. How he'd gotten to that conclusion, Germany didn't know. He knew he wasn't good company. He yelled and was stern and people didn't like him and he was no fun at all according to everyone. Still, Feliciano appeared to take pleasure in their time together.

The tomato ring with its chain, held so tightly in Feliciano's clasped hands was proof of his fondness for Germany.

Germany had heard it all, of course. He’d heard Feliciano telling the others to have faith in Germany. He’d heard of the risk Japan planned to take by going to face the Allies and how Hungary and Austria would fight his battles for him. He’d heard how even Lovino was willing to work for his benefit. How could Germany let them down? Even as he was dying, he would protect his allies.

He knew he was dying, but it had nothing to do with Spain's attack; that had merely drawn attention to something that had been lingering just below the surface and out of sight for quite some time. He could feel it and he knew what was causing it. How he wished that he'd listened to Prussia's warnings about his BOSS.

His people were in pain.

His allies were in danger.

He was dying.

There really was only one solution that would be at all acceptable, one ending that would put a stop to the misery and suffering of his people and ensure that he was never able to hurt his allies – his friends.

Germany inhaled deeply through his nose and stood, ignoring the pain. He took a moment to rearrange Feliciano's sprawled limbs and straighten the blanket so Feliciano wouldn't get cold. Then he went to take a shower before he returned to the bedroom and combed his hair back neatly and found a fresh uniform to dress in. He polished his shoes and made certain that his buttons shone. He took his revolver from its holster at his side and made certain it was loaded.

The dogs were awake and watching him. "You two will stay here and guard the house. Take care of Aster and her pups." He took a moment to kneel by them and pat them both. "Stay." Before he left the bedroom, he looked over his shoulder at Feliciano. "I've loved you since… well. I suppose it doesn't matter, now."

He went to the kitchen where he found Aster with her pups and she looked at him, warily. He found himself wishing that he could see the pups grow up. He took a pad of paper and a pen from the table and sat next to Aster on the floor. With the paper on his lap and one hand resting on Aster's back, Germany wrote:

I have a duty to perform. Carry on as usual.  
Auntie Hungary – Thank you for your care. Don’t listen to what others say – you are a true lady.  
Uncle Roddy – Thank you for always being there. I don’t care what Switzerland says – you’re stronger than anyone thinks.  
Prussia – Please start thinking before you rush to battle – you’re smarter than you think.  
Japan – Do not confront England without back-up. Prussia or Hungary would do well.  
Lovino – Ask Hungary to continue your boxing lessons – she is an excellent teacher.  
Feliciano – Be happy.

Germany signed the note and tossed it and the pen back onto the table. He gave himself a moment to lean down and rest his cheek against the top of Aster's head. "I'll miss you. Take care of everyone."

He stood, then, and left with his mind firmly set on his final duty.

 

To be continued…


	12. All He Ever Wanted

WARNING: This is NOT a nice or especially happy chapter. There are dark subjects addressed in this chapter.

NOTE: I am NOT a history expert. I know this story is not historically accurate and I know that I did not, and couldn't possibly, do justice to the horrors that happened in WWII. If I got things wrong, please forgive me.

 

Chapter 12: All He'd Ever Wanted

Feliciano-

Feliciano stared down at the note Germany had left as he sat on the side of their bed. He wasn't smiling. The note was just like Germany – no details, no solid reasons to make anyone worry about him. Feliciano knew that Germany would go and do whatever it was that he had planned to do without telling a soul, because felt that it was his responsibility. Whatever 'it' was. After a moment, Feliciano crumpled the note into a ball and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

He felt like crying.

He usually felt like crying, but lately it seemed that every time he wanted to cry it was because he was worried for Germany's sake. He didn't like having to worry about Germany, not because he didn't care, but because if he needed to worry about Germany, then something was very, very wrong.

Feliciano paced the room a few times, utterly convinced that whatever it was that Germany had left to take care of wasn’t important enough for the risk. Germany wasn’t well. He was hardly fit to walk and yet there he was sneaking away in the middle of the night. He was probably only doing paperwork or cleaning or doing something else that really didn’t need to be done. Why did he always insist that Feliciano call for help when life got tough, but it never occurred to him that he, too, could call for help?

As he wandered Germany's house, he ran his thumb over the tomato ring Germany had given him. He wore it like a necklace, still on its chain, just as Germany had worn it. It hadn't been a mistake. Germany hadn't mistaken him for Lovino in that restaurant on Valentine's Day. A giddy smile spread across his face and warmth flooded though him. There had been no mistake. Germany had wanted to formalize their alliance. He'd wanted to mark their alliance, to show it to the whole world by having Feliciano wear a ring. He, Feliciano realized, was important to Germany.

He had no idea why, but he was important to Germany.

Pride, Feliciano discovered, was an amazing feeling.

Worry for Germany was stronger than the pride and happiness he felt, though. Feliciano stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “Now,” he said to himself. “What would Germany do?”

Germany wouldn’t panic. He would think. 

“I think I’ll check the house first,” Feliciano said, aloud. “Maybe he hasn’t gone, yet, and I can get him to go back to bed. If he’s not here, then I’ll panic.”

As he went about the house and yard surrounding the house, he couldn't stop worrying for Germany. Germany should have been resting; he would have made anyone else stay in bed and rest if they were as hurt as he was. And with Hungary, Austria, and Prussia taking care of tasks to hide the fact that Germany wasn't well, there shouldn't have been anything that Germany would need to do other than recover. He was probably doing paperwork, then. It had to be paperwork that had called Germany from his bed. Or maybe cleaning. Germany was particular in that he liked everything to be clean and tidy all the time. He got huffy even if someone left dirty socks on the floor rather than in the hamper or if someone forgot to wipe their feet before entering his house. Yes, it was either paperwork or cleaning - neither of which he should have been doing in his condition – that had drawn Germany from his bed. Feliciano was quite good at housework – Austria and Hungary could have told Germany that if he’d asked. He could have done the housework for Germany.

When he didn’t find Germany cleaning, Feliciano headed for Germany’s office and, to his surprise, found there Lovino napping with his head on Germany's desk. There were papers everywhere, but when Feliciano looked at the papers, it became clear that everything was done. There was no work to be done, only filed. He picked up the top paper on one of the piles and saw Lovino's clumsy, scribbled handwriting in a rather poor attempt at German.

With a smile, he patted his big brother's head.

Lovino jumped to his feet, knocking his knee on Germany's desk and immediately started swearing as he fell back into the chair with his hurt knee pulled up to his chest. When he finally blinked his teary, angry eyes and saw Feliciano, he snapped, "What are you going? Go put your damned clothes on!"

"Careful," Feliciano giggled. "Germany will wash your mouth out, again."

Immediately, Lovino looked around, as if expecting to find where Germany was waiting for him to slip-up. When he focused back on Feliciano, he scowled. "Never mind your Germany; go get dressed. What do you… hey." He peered a little closer at Feliciano. "Your necklace. He gave it to you."

"Yeah." Feliciano laughed and scratched at the back of his head. "Boy, was I ever confused. Him, too. I guess you were right."

Lovino just rolled his eyes and rubbed his knee. "Of course I was right. You two need a nanny to keep you out of trouble. You're about as swift as a pair of bricks. How's he doing?"  
The note Germany had left flashed in Feliciano's mind. He felt like crying, again. It just wasn't fair. Why should everyone say good-bye? But then he pushed those unpleasant feelings away and smiled as brightly as he could. "He's just out for a bit. When he comes back, we should leave."

Lovino looked back down at the paperwork before him and muttered, "What are you on about?"

"We should leave. Go on another vacation or something. Germany's never going to get better if he doesn't rest and if he doesn't get better he can only get worse and if he gets worse we're going to lose the war and that will make him very sad. We should go home. He really likes your garden, you know. Oh. Maybe that's not such a good idea. Russia might show up. I did sorta, kinda hint that he might be welcome to visit because he really wants to see your garden and I don't suppose you planted any sunflowers this year, did you?"

While Feliciano had been talking, Lovino had grown progressively paler. "You invited Russia to look at my garden?"

"Well, I kinda needed a favor and it seemed like the best way. Sorry. Anyway, I really think we should go on another vacation, but Germany doesn't seem to like them much and he never really rests when I try to get him to go places except when we went to our House and you gave him some fruit. He liked that vacation and that's why I thought he'd like to go back to our House – you know, just to sit and relax and do a whole lot of nothing." He would have continued if Lovino hadn't put a hand over his mouth.

"Take a breath and slow down. Even I can hardly understand you when you're worried."

"I'm not worried; I just want him to rest. Even if he isn't fighting, then he's going to be sitting in here doing all this work." Feliciano wrinkled his nose at the papers. "He likes doing all this. He said that if he does all his paperwork, his house runs more smoothly and there's less to worry about." He moved to stand behind Lovino and leaned on his brother to look over his shoulder to admire all the finished paperwork. "I didn't think you could do paperwork."

"I wanted to help," Lovino pouted and wouldn't look at Feliciano. "I know I'm trouble – everyone says so. Even Spain says so. But… well…" Lovino's voice trailed away and he started to nervously scuff his toe on the floor.

"Come on," Feliciano urged. "You can tell me. I won't laugh."

"You better not!" Lovino burst out with his normal rancor. He jumped to his feet. "You laugh at me and I'll pound your face into the sand! I'll turn your face to mud if you think it's funny that I want to help, too! I'm a nice guy. I'm smart and I know Germany's hurt and sick – he's no one to be afraid of. I know he's been doing everything to help us and protect us and I know he can't take care of himself right now so I can help!" By that time, Lovino was nearly raving as he stalked around the room, waving his hands in the air. "I just wanted to be nice and now if Germany sees this," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled up paper that he threw at Feliciano. "He'll start keeping me locked up! He's gonna think I'll go running back to Spain just 'cause Spain's acting all sweet and then he won’t teach me to box anymore and he'll decide it's better to keep me chained up in his House and I'll never get free…"

Then, Feliciano was laughing.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" Lovino grabbed Feliciano and shook him.

"I surrender!" Feliciano cried, at once. "I surrender! White flag!" And, indeed, he was waving a white flag. When Lovino stopped shaking him, Feliciano straightened his suit. "I wasn't laughing at you, honest, but you've got Germany all wrong. He wouldn't do that. He might kill Spain, but he's not the kind to keep an ally locked up."

"Why not? Everyone else does it."

"Not him. And what's all this about going back to Spain?"

Again, Lovino fell silent for a time.

Feliciano felt something angry and bitter stir inside him. He didn't want Lovino to forgive Spain. He didn't want his dear brother to ever be dependent on someone who might mistreat him. He picked up the paper Lovino had thrown at him and read through it. There was nothing overtly threatening in the note, nothing that made him worry too much. "Have you forgiven him?"

"No. Not yet." It was a slow answer, something Lovino had clearly thought about. "I don't know if I will, but sometimes I think he's standing right behind me but when I turn around he isn't there and I'm not sure if I should be happy about that or not."

Feliciano asked, "You miss him?"

"No! Of course not! Who would miss that idiot? Look, just drop it, right? Just… I don't want to talk about it. I've been trying to get this stuff done and it's hard 'cause I don't even know German so I had to look up every word so I didn't sleep much and I'm just confused because I'm tired. I don't miss him!"

"Right. Okay. That's fine. But, it's okay - you can tell me if you do miss him."

"I don't miss him! Being away from him is just… it's just weird, is all. He's always been there, ever since Grandpa left me. Even if Spain did something stupid, I can't just stop thinking about him and he wasn't all bad. He helped me a lot, you know."

For a long time, Feliciano just watched him with a still expression before he smiled. "It's okay if you still like him. No matter what you decide to do about him, I'll still love you and I'll do everything I can to make you happy. I'll even owe another favor to Russia so I can beat Spain to a bloody pulp, again, if it'll make you happy."

"Yeah, well, thanks… hey. What?"

The telephone rang, then, and Feliciano answered it, ignoring his brother's spluttering. The voice on the other end of the line made him freeze, for just a moment.

"So glad to reach you, friend." Russia's cherry, sing-song voice spoke up on the other end.

Feliciano almost dropped the telephone. As it was, he only fumbled with it before he said in a quaking voice, "Hello! Hi. Ah, if this is about the visit to my home, I'm not there right now because I'm here. Here at Germany's house. Yes. I- "

Russia laughed. "You're still thinking of my visit? I'm so happy! But that's not the reason I called." He paused, for a moment, before he went on. "I shouldn't be telling you this – the others will get cross – but you were very polite to me when we last spoke. Not many people speak so kindly to me. I wanted to repay the kindness so I thought I would tell you that my spies have told me that Germany is going to his BOSS and my allies have decided that this is the time to move. He appears to be wounded badly and, for whatever reason, he is traveling alone." His good-humor was obvious even over the telephone. "It's the perfect time to take him out. If you get in the way, you could get hurt."

"What? You can't hurt Germany. If he's hurt, you have to leave him alone. It's not fair to attack him when he's hurt!"

As if Feliciano hadn't spoken, Russia continued, "I'm heading there, now, myself. So you stay where you are and when we've beat Germany I'll come collect you and your brother. Everything will be fine after that. The war is about to be over." Then he hung up.

Slowly, Feliciano hung up the phone before he looked up at Lovino. Fear nearly swamped him. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach. "I think… I think Germany needs us."

Germany-

Germany's final task was, he knew, suicide. He'd come to accept the fact after he understood what had happened to him. He couldn't think of any other solution. After all, he would die if he did nothing, so why not make an attempt to set things right and, hopefully, save his people and end a lot of suffering?

Germany didn't go straight away to his ultimate destination, but first stopped at one of the prisons he'd built. It was only right that he at least witness what he'd done, he told himself as he stood at the tall wall surrounding Auschwitz. He had put people in the place without understanding what he was doing and when, finally, he had understood, it was too late. The damage had been done.

How could he have not realized?

Germany walked through Auschwitz feeling sick and shaking. He could feel the press of death all around him. Everyone was starving and sick. The light of hope had gone out of the eyes of so many prisoners. Everything was filthy.

His people were killed by his own people.

Why did no one understand? Jew or gypsy or cripple or homosexual… they were his. All of them were German. Tortured and murdered for whatever little excuse could be found, for the simple excuse that they existed. They were still his people. HIS! And what of the others? He had so many people in not only this prison but also in others and there were people in his prisons that belonged to his neighbors. Poland… how could he have done this to Poland? And he had allowed it to happen because he had blindly trusted his BOSS.

So Germany walked through his prison, powerless. He stopped near the fence where a young man, frighteningly familiar, sat with his stick-like arms wrapped around knobby knees. Germany knelt down in front of the young man and put a hand on his shoulder. As if he were half-asleep, the young man slowly looked up at Germany and smiled when he recognized Germany. There were only a few teeth left in the once fine smile of that young, deaf man who'd helped build Auschwitz; he’d been so eager to bring money back to his young wife.

"Hello, sir." His voice was little more than a whisper. "Thank you for coming."

"I'm sorry. I’m so sorry."

The young man kept a steady gaze on Germany. "They said I was useless because I'm deaf. And so I'm here. Please, will you stop this? Please? My wife... my baby... Please, stop this."

"You have my word."

He didn't cry, that brave young man. He sat solemnly on the ground with large eyes staring, and didn't speak to Germany, again. Slowly, his eyes closed and his head fell slightly to the side. Dead. For a time, Germany just sat there in the dirt. Then he reached up a hand to pat the young man on the head. He'd never even learned the young man's name.

As he made his way through the prison, Germany heard the whispered rumor from the guards: Russia was on his way and they hadn't the manpower to stand against him.

No matter.

He couldn't really find it in himself to fight, any longer. He just wanted it all to be over. He was hurt and tired and his allies would take care of one another. Germany wondered if his big brother would call him a coward for allowing the defeat. Gilbert surely would never see any awesome glory or honor in what Germany had become. He would agree that it was time to end the pain.

He was nearly done at the prison, when he came to the gas room. He went in when a group of his people were led in and stood with them. After the doors were closed behind them, the prisoners were simply standing around, waiting, though they didn't know what they were waiting for. Germany realized too late what the room was; he could smell the residual gas from previous mass murders.

Germany felt a rising panic. He wouldn’t be injured by the gas, but his people… Germany rushed for the locked doors and threw himself against them, trying with all his remaining strength to force them open and free his people. He wasn't as strong as he ought to be; the doors should have opened easily for him. The doors didn't move. Again and again he tried to open the doors, but so many of his own people had lost faith in him. He hadn't realized that, either, until that moment and he screamed at his helplessness as he futilely rammed his shoulder against the door. Without the faith and trust of his own people, then what good was he?

The meaning of the visions he'd had, the mysterious sounds and smells that he’d been detecting were suddenly clear. He'd been seeing the prisoners of the camps. And the numbers that had appeared on his wrist were a reflection of the tattoos the prisoners were forcibly given.

Someone was crying and Germany heard the distinct sound of hissing gas as a valve, somewhere, was turned to let the poison in. Within moments, the air was tainted and Germany knew it was too late. He stopped battering himself against the door and turned to look at his people. There were tears and yelling and curses and prayers. In the middle of the room, curled into a little ball, was a boy who was surely no older than six-years-old.

Such horror! No innocent eyes should reflect that desperate fear and confusion.

Germany strode to the boy and knelt in front of him. Wordlessly, he opened his arms. He was still strong enough for this, at least.

The boy stared up at him, trembling. "What's happening?"

"Come sit with me. What's your name?"

"Alphonse." The child squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took a crawled towards Germany until he could put both of his little hands on Germany's forearms. "I wanna go home."

"I know. I'm sorry."

The boy crawled onto Germany's lap and leaned against his chest. He felt so tiny when Germany wrapped his arms around him. The boy's dark hair brushed against Germany's shoulder. "Where's mama and papa?"

"Close your eyes, Alphonse. Think nice thoughts as you fall asleep." The boy was dying. "My friend told me that if you think nice thoughts before sleeping, you'll have happy dreams. So, nice thoughts as you drift away. I - " Germany paused, almost choking. "I want you to be happy."

All around, people began to slump to the floor, their wide, vacant eyes stared at nothing. Germany felt every death.

The boy trembled. "I wanna go home. Please. Please, let me go home."

Germany put his hand over the boy's eyes - no need for him to see the death all around him – and started to rock back and forth. "Think of mama and papa. Think of your home and your warm bed. There's nothing to be scared of. It'll all be over soon."

The boy in Germany's arms had stopped his bitter crying and his breath was getting shallow.

"Soon," Germany whispered. "No more pain or fear. All is peace and you're home." Then, the boy died. Germany slid his hand off Alphonse's eyes. They were closed and he seemed peaceful. Germany kept rocking and he wept for the innocent he'd killed. His citizen… his child.

He wasn't sure how much time passed while he held the boy. Eventually, the air was cleared and, when the poison was gone, the doors opened. Germany looked up at the solider at the door.

Skinny and acne-ridden, the solider was little more than a child, himself. He should have been at school or chasing after some rosy-cheeked girl with stars in her eyes. Not doing… this. He looked pale, as if he might be sick. It was good, Germany thought. If the soldier had been able to enter the death chamber without a single hint of remorse or guilt, then surely he would have been lost altogether.

The young soldier looked sick as did the others who came with him to clear out the room. They ignored Germany as they worked but for small, quick glances out of the corners of their eyes tinged with shame, fear, and, in some cases, hate.

It was good that he’d gone to the prison, Germany decided. It had steeled his resolve, he wouldn’t fail.

Germany left the prison and as he walked to where he needed to be, he found that his once focused mind kept drifting. He thought of his childhood and Uncle Roddy's gentle music. He thought of Auntie Hungary's ringing laughter and he thought of his big brother's arms, always so strong as he picked Germany up and carried him around as if he were nothing more than a baby. He thought of Japan and how he was always calmed and comforted simply by sitting quietly with his little friend. He thought of Lovino and how he tried so hard to be strong and if Germany just had a little more time he was sure he could make an excellent soldier out of him. He thought of Feliciano…

Germany found his BOSS in a bunker with his human friends and allies. His BOSS seemed surprised to see him there, but Germany didn't pay any attention to whatever his BOSS was saying. Rather, he pulled his gun from its holster and fired.

One shot.

Germany felt it the moment the bullet hit and his BOSS fell. A terrible coldness spread throughout his body while a heat inflamed his mind. He watched his BOSS fall, a tiny hole in one of his temples. The human didn’t yell or cry out or give any reaction at all – his death had been too quick; he just fell. Darkness grew at the edge of Germany's vision as he stood there and stared down at the corpse of his BOSS. His BOSS' people were running out of the room and, after only a second, Germany was alone with the body.

Germany's lips felt numb.

There was something warm sliding down the side of his face. Germany reached up with the hand holding his gun and ran his fingers across his temple only to bring them away with his fingers coated in blood. The bullet wound he'd given his BOSS was, of course, reflected on Germany. It was as he'd expected. Killing his BOSS was clearly the last blow he could take in his weakened state.

His knees gave out on him then and he sank to the concrete floor with a thud. He was vaguely away of a distant clatter as his gun fell to the concrete floor beside him. His hearing was off, as if he were underwater. He could hear his own breathing in the still bunker. The darkness in his vision grew, narrowing the world down to tunnel. Perhaps he was falling down a deep hole; perhaps he was drowning. He could hardly keep his head up.

Hands touched him, patted his face. He opened his eyes and found that he was laying on the floor on his back.

Then Feliciano was there, looking at him in horror. He wanted to tell Feliciano that there was nothing to get all teary about. This was what soldiers did – they did what was necessary to protect their people. It was what he was meant to do. No matter how he preferred baking or quiet moments to read, he was, ultimately, a soldier and soldiers fought and soldiers sometimes died.

A spasm shook through Germany. He coughed and couldn't find his voice. He couldn't move his lips. Lovino was there, too. He stood over his little brother and looked angry and sad and desperate all at once. A hand was holding Germany’s. He heard his brother's high, frantic voice but didn't see him until Prussia leaned over and put himself right in Germany's line-of-sight. Germany couldn't understand anything Prussia was saying, but he was glad to have his brother there. Hungary was there, too. She had her hands on Prussia's shoulders and leaned over him to look down at Germany. She didn't speak, but patted Prussia's shoulders and watched Germany with teary, tired eyes. Austria sat by Germany's head, silent and still and looking so suddenly old while he gently ran his fingers through German’s hair. Germany couldn’t see Japan, but Japan was so strong and sensible, he was sure to be alright no matter where he was.

Germany wished he could understand what they were saying. He wished he could tell them all to calm down; there was nothing to be so worked up about. Everyone was together and everyone was safe and, really, that was all he'd ever wanted. But he was tired and his vision was growing dark so he said nothing. Soon, he couldn't see them and, then, he couldn't hear their voices.

All was darkness.

Epilogue-

When Germany woke – and he was rather surprised that he did wake – the first thing he saw was Feliciano sitting by a window in front of his easel. The sun was shining and cast a pleasant coppery glow on Feliciano's hair. As much as Germany admired the sight, the first thing he said was, "Don't drip paint on the floor."

Feliciano started so badly that he dropped his paintbrush and, of course, splattered blue paint all over the floor. He beamed at Germany, then shouted, "Japan! He's awake! He's awake!" Then he rushed to Germany and sat beside him on the bed. "We were so worried. Miss Hungary was crying and I don't think I've ever seen her cry and she said she wasn't sure you were going to wake up and Japan had his friend, Turkey, come to look at you because he's a great doctor but even he didn't know if you were going to wake up. Prussia was so upset. The war's over, there's no more fighting and we took care of all the paperwork for you."

In the middle of his ramble, Japan came to stand by Germany's bedside. Germany had never seen Japan in such a state. He was normally such a fastidious person, always taking care to look respectable. Now, he was near covered in bandages. The parts of his skin that was visible didn't look good – his skin was red and swollen, covered in blisters.

"What happened?" Germany tried to sit up, to help, but he was so frighteningly weak that he couldn't manage anything more than lifting his head.

“I… came to an agreement with America.” Japan’s voice sounded tired, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

"America did that to you?"

"My people didn’t want to hear talk of surrender and I did so… America has this new weapon.” He gave Germany a stern look. “America didn’t want to do this. I won’t you have being angry with him; he and I agreed to do this for the sake of ending the war. I will heal." He moved closer, slowly and unsteadily, and leaned over to look intently at Germany's face. "And you? How do you feel?"

"Fine." He certainly wasn't going to admit that he felt unbelievably tired and weak and rather sick to his stomach. He wasn't going to mention the nearly unbearable pain that lanced through his whole body. But his head felt better. There was no need to worry anyone and Japan was surely in far more need of concern than Germany. "My head feels better."

Japan seemed doubtful of Germany's words, but didn't contradict him. "The wound Spain gave you has finally healed. Now, I think what will be best for your health is a long rest."

It was only then that Germany realized he wasn't in his House. In fact, he wasn’t in any house that he recognized. Nothing looked familiar. The whole place seemed to be nothing more than a single room. Germany could see a small kitchen area to one side of the room and several other beds only feet from the one he lay in. The air smelled like saltwater and he could hear gulls crying out. He took a glance out the window near his bed and saw a beach.

"Where are we?"

"On our island," Japan answered. "We built a little house. I suppose it's more of a hut than a real house, but it is shelter and more than we had when we were shipwrecked here. It's time for a vacation."

"Another one? No. There's work to do." He wasn't entirely certain what had happened after he'd shot his BOSS, but he did know that he hadn't done any work that day and if he'd been sleeping for a length of time, then he hadn't been getting any of his work done at all. "There must be so much to be done."

"You need to rest. For the sake of your people, you MUST rest."

Feliciano patted Germany's hand. "Please. You've been sleeping for days and I started to think that you'd fade away and big brother wouldn't leave your garden until I told him we were coming here for you to heal." He looked to a corner of the room where Lovino was sleeping on the floor with his back against the wall. "He'll die before he says it, but he was worried for you, too. He told me we have to stick together and take care of you and Japan until you're both well."

"But I have to go back; my work needs to be done."

Japan shook his head. "Hungary-san and Austria-san have assured me that they would take care of all the details. They, too, want you to rest."

Reluctantly, Germany nodded. If Austria and Hungary thought it was for the best, then he would do it.

Then Feliciano was going on about something but Germany's eye was caught on the tomato ring that hung around Feliciano's neck. He smiled softly. At least THAT was something to be pleased about. "Where is my brother?"

There was an awkward moment when Japan and Feliciano exchanged a cautious look.

"What’s wrong?" Germany asked.

"Your brother is… occupied at the moment. He couldn't come with us."

"Oh." It hurt more than a little that his brother wasn't there when he was so injured, but Prussia was important – he had so much to do and all of it was more important than his clearly incompetent little brother who couldn't even take care of his people properly. What other nation would allow someone to be their BOSS who would deliberately hurt his people? Of course Prussia had better things to do than spend time with Germany.

Then Feliciano was kissing Germany's face and pleading with him not to cry. Germany hadn't even realized that he'd started to cry and angrily wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hand.

"I often forget that you are a child," Japan said, gently.

"I'm not a child."

"But you are so very young… I suppose this is how my big-brother sees me. You look so hurt to think that Prussia-san isn't here. Please, don't worry. When you are feeling well enough you can give him a telephone call and I'm very sure he'll be more than happy to talk to you. He isn’t away from you because he wants to be."

Germany had to be content with that.

Japan went to one of the other beds in the room to rest shortly after their conversation. His own wounds were terrible and sleeping was the only comfort he had. Feliciano went to the modest kitchen and started preparing lunch just before Lovino woke up and crept to Germany's side. He didn't say anything for a long while and Germany didn't press him. When he did speak, Lovino said,

"I'm glad my stupid little brother called you that night. Remember? When we got our hair tangled?" He looked at Germany with an intense look in his eyes. "I am thankful, even if I didn't say it back then. You were nice. You just came and helped and you didn't demand anything in return. I'm glad he called you."

Germany reached a shaking hand up and beckoned Lovino closer. When Lovino did as he was bid, Germany gave him a gentle smack on the side of the head. He said, "Don't call your brother 'stupid.'"

Loivno snorted and turned his head away as he made a show of rubbing his head where Germany had cuffed him, but he didn't turn quite fast enough for Germany to miss his little, amused grin.

So Germany lay there with the warm breeze whispering over him. He could see the beach outside the large, open window next to his bed. The sandy beach was white and the sun made the ocean glitter like fallen coins. For once, everything was right. Feliciano was humming happily, Japan was peaceful as he slept and healed, and Lovino was more settled than Germany had ever seen him. Hungary and Austria were safe and happy taking care of business back home and Prussia was… well. Wherever Prussia was, he was likely having a good time. Germany would go find him later, after he’d rested and felt stronger. There was no more war to fight and no more insane BOSS to obey and the wound on Germany's head had finally healed.

For the first time in a very long time, Germany was happy. He closed his eyes and let himself drift back into a serene sleep.

The End


End file.
